


Return to Denver

by 20SomethingSuperHeroes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Homeless Bucky Barnes, Hydra (Marvel), SHIELD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20SomethingSuperHeroes/pseuds/20SomethingSuperHeroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes has returned to Denver, hoping against hope that he can somehow meet with Grace Porter and try to rebuild their relationship.  But while he's living in the streets, Hillary Tanner is working overtime as S.H.I.E.L.D. grapples with the fallout of Ultron's brief but chaotic reign of terror.</p><p>Setting: Concurrent with the events of "The Avengers: Age of Ultron" and the weeks afterward</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cody's Homecoming

Cody didn’t ask why his sister was quiet in the back seat of the suburban. He glanced back once and saw her typing something. But he wasn’t paying that much attention. Being with his parents again for the first time in two years was overwhelming. They had so much to talk about. He was pretty sure that Hillary had a lot to talk about with him, too, but that would wait. 

“So he left this morning, really?” he said for probably the third time since the airport.

“That he did,” said Jo.

“Gee. It would’ve been nice to meet him, the way you guys talked about him.”

Hillary lifted her eyes up to gaze at him briefly. Then she looked back down at her phone. Cody wanted to ask what she was writing but figured it was probably something for S.H.I.E.L.D.. 

When Cody got to his house, he saw Mudder the cat waiting outside the screen door to be let in. Mudder wandered around the inside of the house for a few minutes before Cody was able to take the time to pick him up. Cody had to pet him for a little bit, but the cat eventually started purring.

“See? He remembers me! I almost thought he wouldn’t remember me!”

That night at the Tanners’ residence, with all of his siblings, in-laws, and nieces and nephews, they feasted on pulled pork sandwiches and potato chips. Cody had sent out a message on social media to say he was home and invite anyone in the area who wanted to come over, but the only responses he got were from guy friends who didn’t even live in Mesa anymore.

Cody went to his room to take a break from the people crowding around him and decided to unpack the souvenirs he’d brought. Up until last night, someone else had been   
staying here. But it certainly didn’t look like it. The sheets were changed, the floor was vacuumed, and there was nothing in the room that wasn’t his.

He came back out and started to pass out the souvenirs. He had toys for Oliver, Linsey, and Maddie, and he’d wished he’d brought something for Tayson. Marie had been pregnant with Tayson when Cody had left for Germany. He couldn’t believe how big Tayson had gotten already. He was also amazed at the other three, especially with Oliver’s piano playing skills. For his mother he had a glass figurine, and for everyone else he’d brought a stack of postcards to share.

“You already sent us enough postcards in the mail, bro,” said Mike. “Did you have to bring us some more?”

“Very funny,” said Cody. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t put any thought in the matter. He had a special postcard from Augsburg for Hillary, which he presented last.

“This is from Augsburg,” he said, even though the name of the city was very clearly labeled on the picture. “You know what’s cool about Augsburg, Hillary? It’s where Doctor Abraham Erskine was from. And Doctor Erskine--”

“Was the guy who invented the serum that they used on Steve Rogers, right,” said Hillary. “I know all about Captain America’s history, thank you very much. My work specializes in that sort of thing.”

“Right--and you know Captain America, too,” said Cody.

“Sort of,” said Hillary. “We haven’t really talked in a while.” There was something like sadness in her tone.

“Well, is he as perfect as everybody says he is?”

“No--but he’s better than most of the guys you meet these days,” said Hillary. “If he didn’t have so much notoriety I’d say Steve was only interesting for his manners and good looks.”

“Whoa, Steve? You’re on first-name terms with him?”

“It’s not a big deal, is it?” 

“I’d say you’re coming on to him, sis.”

“Heck no. Trust me, even taking off the years he was on the ice he’s still a little too old for me. And he’s not my type.” She glanced at the postcard and gave a sigh of appreciation. “But still, it’s the thought that counts.”

Maybe Hillary was in a rough spot with Steve? Maybe he hadn’t been wise to bring her a reminder of it.

There was a knock on the front door. Hillary turned and went to answer it.

“Mark! Come in!” she shouted to the person at the door. A guy stepped inside and she hugged him. “Oh, I’m glad to see you.”

“You too,” he said. 

“Come in, come in,” said Hillary, hastening him inside.

“Everyone, this is Mark,” she announced. No one had really been paying attention to the front door, but now they were all looking at him. Not staring at him rudely but quietly   
acknowledging his presence.

Mark, who is Mark? When did this happen? Cody wanted to ask. Mark was just a little bit taller than Hillary. He wore a plaid shirt, a gray sweater, skinny jeans, and Vans. His   
styled hair and thick glasses made him look like a hipster and Cody had a strong suspicion he was one.

Mark started going around and making introductions. He had already met Mom and Dad, apparently. 

Cody tried to distract himself with more chips. Finally Hillary came around with Mark.

“And Mark, this is my brother Cody.”

“Cody, the man of the hour, at last!” said Mark, shaking hands with him warmly. “Nice to finally meet you. Welcome home.”

“Thanks,” said Cody. “Nice to finally meet you, too. Are you her -- ?” He wanted to say ‘boyfriend’ or even ‘prospective boyfriend’ but both of them sounded like the wrong thing.

“I’m her friend,” said Mark.

“We’re friends,” said Hillary, but the way she said it Cody was ninety percent sure that they could end up being more than that if they weren’t already.

“How long have you guys known each other?” asked Cody.

“Mark and I were friends in D.C., when I went to S.H.I.E.L.D. school.”

“I was in the accounting program at the University of D.C. I’m from Virginia.”

“Oh, really. How nice. And you came out here to visit?”

“Oh, no, Mark lives and works here now,” said Hillary. “How’s it coming with finding a new job, by the way?”

“Actually I was going to tell you,” said Mark, “I got an offer yesterday from Sherman Financial Reviewers in Glendale..”

“Oh, really?” said Hillary, her face lighting up. “How wonderful!” Hillary wrapped her arms around him. 

Cody had another drink of soda and turned away.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Cody, didn’t mean to bump into you there,” said Hillary. She backed away from Mark a little hastily.

“That’s fine, so anyway,” Cody addressed Mark, “congrats on the new job. I’m sure you’re gonna like it.”

“Thanks. We should hang out sometime.”

“What, with Hillary?”

“No, you don’t have to be a third wheel,” said Mark, laughing. 

Trey was standing close by. “So Mark took Hillary out on a date for Easter weekend.”

“A date?” Cody said, flabbergasted.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” asked Hillary.

“Well, Mom didn’t mention it in the email!” 

“I meant to, honey,” said Jo, who was standing nearby. “I just forgot about it.”

“Well, that kind of stuff is important, you know!” said Cody. “Was that your first date?” 

“Yes,” said Hillary.

“No,” said Mark at the exact same time, “unless you count when I took her out for ice cream the week before.”

Hillary laughed--it sounded more like somewhere between a laugh and a giggle. “It counts.”

“I see,” said Cody. Apparently Hillary had been home a lot more of late than his mother had let on. “So apparently Captain America wasn’t the only nice guy you met in D.C.   
That’s wonderful, sis.”

“Hey, nice,” said Mark. “I was friends with him, too. Steve’s a great guy.”

“Steve? You too?”

“Don’t have a heart attack,” said Hillary. “I know you’ve been a big Captain America fan ever since I joined S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“So when do I get to meet him?”

“I don’t know,” Hillary said, sighing heavily. “Whenever he comes back from Avenging, I guess.”

“And you don’t know when’ll that be?”

“Soon,” Hillary nodded.

“So tell me about your boss,” said Cody. “You said his name was Coulson, right?”

“Right.”

“And he came over for Easter dinner?”

“Yes he did,” said Jo. 

“He’s great with children, as a matter of fact,” said Susan, who was standing nearby.

“And babies,” added Cody’s brother Jon.

“And cats,” said Hillary. “Though I think he did tell me once that he’s more of a dog person. But Mudder doesn’t care.”

“So what are you and Coulson doing?” asked Cody.

“So Coulson is the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., he got appointed last November,” said Hillary. “Him and me and this other guy he hired named Mitch, he’s brand new, we work together. Mitch and I are Coulson’s assistants. Mostly since I started working with Coulson in January we’ve been travelling around the world trying to...regulate the affairs of the company, we’ll put it that way. But Coulson says that this week we’re going to start working out of our office in D.C. We’ve gotten a new headquarters--not as fancy as the Triskelion, just a rented office suite. But it’ll be nice, I think. Different. But different’s fun, occasionally.”

“Okay,” Cody nodded. Cody made small talk with Mark about church and college and whatnot. Mark also got around to talking to Cody’s older siblings and he even interacted with Oliver and Linsey for a bit. In the end, he kind of usurped Cody’s place as the star of the evening. But that was okay with him. He didn’t exactly want to be in the limelight right now.

After a while, Mark left, as did all of the rest of the family except for Hillary. Cody helped Hillary to clean up the kitchen. Jo was starting to bake something.

“What are you making, Mom?” Cody asked. He thought it was something for the party with the extended family tomorrow afternoon. 

“Cinnamon rolls. I thought you’d like some for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I didn’t ask for any,” said Cody, stunned.

“Honey, you’ve been gone for two years. It doesn’t hurt to do something special.”

“Just admit it,” said Hillary. “You’ve missed Mom’s cooking.”

Cody shook his head. “I have.” 

They finished cleaning the kitchen, and Jo left the dough to rise. Hillary and Cody went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Hillary talked eagerly about her job while Cody   
talked about his hopes for finding one as well as starting school for the summer.

“So tell me about Bucky,” he said at last. He’d been waiting to find a quiet moment alone with her to talk about it--he knew she’d be the one to ask about it.

“It’s a long story,” she sighed, folding her arms.

“Well, I’m all ears,” said Cody as he began flossing his teeth.

“Well,” Hillary began.

“So Thanksgiving,” said Cody, urging her.

“So last Thanksgiving, it was the night before Thanksgiving, and I was making the rolls for dinner, right?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Well...we’d known he was in the neighborhood,” she backtracked. “This random homeless guy with a metal arm that I knew Steve Rogers was looking for.”

“Wait, Steve was looking for him?”

“It’s complicated.” She gave him a summary of the history of the Winter Soldier. Then Hillary went into the story of how they’d found him and how their father had offered him a   
job. She told Cody about her relationship with him--by all accounts, they had been just friends, and for obvious reasons they weren’t compatible, but she’d been very attached to him. All he’d ever heard from the weekly emails he’d exchanged with his family were some sketchy details about Bucky’s troubled past and moody behavior. But from Hillary he got the full story--his personality, his time hanging out with Hillary on her weekends home, her attempts to try and convince him to accept his past. Then she got to the part where Hydra had attacked their house. Mom hadn’t said a word about this crisis, but it was understandable. It had been a terribly worrying time, except for--

“Wait, so the AVENGERS came and helped you guys out?” Cody said.

Hillary shushed him. “Yes, well, only two of them, Black Widow and Hawkeye.”

“That’s the archer and the assassin lady.”

“Yeah.”

“Were they nice?”

“Yeah, but you won’t believe the outfit Natasha made me wear.”

“How many of the Avengers are you on first-name terms with?”

“She said I could call her that. So just two. For now. I still refer to Barton as Barton, so I know three of them.”

“Well, that’s quite an achievement, sis.”

“That’s not an achievement--”

“Friends with three of the Avengers--”

“We’re not really friends--”

“And the Winter Soldier. Nice. So what happened then?”

Cody had finished brushing his teeth and he listened eagerly to Hillary’s account of the battle in Scottsdale. Cody heard Mom returning to the kitchen to check on the dough for the cinnamon rolls but still listened to Hillary tell him about the end of the Hydra scare.

“So life returned somewhat to normal,” said Hillary. “Bucky came home and he was perfectly happy in the garage, I guess. And then Steve came.”

“That Steve?”

“Yes, that Steve.”

“Wait, Captain America came and visited my dad’s garage. Oh my gosh, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t a happy occasion,” said Hillary. 

“You didn’t say anything?”

“Cody.”

“MOOOOM!”

“Yes, Cody?” Jo called from the kitchen.

Cody came storming out of the bathroom.

“You didn’t tell me that Captain America came and visited the garage! Like, how is that not important enough for you to tell me?” He went into the kitchen and confronted his mother. “Why don’t you ever tell me anything?”

“Well, you see, Bucky didn’t want to see him,” said Jo.

“I was just getting to that part, Mom,” said Hillary. Hillary told that part of the story in the kitchen. Jo didn’t say anything. Cody was really shocked.

“Well, gosh, that must have been terrible,” said Cody. “Okay, I take it back. I’m glad you didn’t tell me anything. But still, you could have at least mentioned, ‘Hey, by the way, Cody, your favorite superhero came to visit the garage.’”

“Well, I understand how you feel, Cody,” said Hillary. “In fact I feel this way more often than not, when I’m gone from home for weeks on end and I feel like I’ve missed everything. It’s just natural.”

“But Bucky came back, though, didn’t he?” asked Cody.

“Yes, he did,” said Hillary. “He was here for most of the month. And he left just this morning. I dropped him off at the bus station and everything. It’s what he wanted. But in the meantime, Steve’s still kind of mad at me.”

“I’ll say. I thought you knew better than to get on Captain America’s bad side.”

“I thought I did,” said Hillary. 

“Well, sis, you’re a jerk, and so is he.”

“Not as big a jerk as Bucky.” 

Cody stayed up late with his mother and sister, telling them about the different culture in Germany and the people he’d met there. Hillary had a few travel stories of her own to tell.

 

Hillary posted the following as her Facebook status that night:

Hillary Morgan Tanner:   
I have had it up to HERE with Captain America fanboys.

Mitchell J. Sorensen: Who, me?

Mark Lawson: Me, a fanboy? You’re exaggerating. 

Mark added a picture to his comment: it was him in his Captain America costume from last Halloween.

Hillary Morgan Tanner: SEE?

Cody King Tanner: No, I don’t see it.

Hillary Morgan Tanner: *screaming in frustration*

 

On Sunday at church, Cody delivered a homecoming address, and the pews of his home congregation were crammed with members of his immediate and extended family, and thankfully a few of his friends had turned up. After church was the massive luncheon for the extended Tanner family, his mother’s relatives included. 

“Is Mark going to be coming?” he asked Hillary while they were setting out the buffet.

“I’m afraid not. His church meetings run on a later schedule than ours. And besides, it’s too soon for him to be meeting the extended family. Don’t you think?”

“Well, if he’s already had the nerve to meet our siblings, then he might as well go all the way and come meet the cousins.” 

“Shut up.” Hillary took her tray and went back to the kitchen sink to wash it off.

Grandma Agnes was there, the last, sadly, of his grandparents, and she gave Cody her hearty approval that he had come home to be an upstanding member of the family in the stead of that “vicious, disgusting young man that your father has finally had the sense to turn out back into the streets.” Uncle Kenny had a few stories to tell about Bucky as well, but they were far kinder.

Cody was spending some quality time catching up with the boy cousins his age when he noticed Hillary staring out the screen door, off by herself. She wasn’t even looking at her   
phone, though it was in her hand.

Cody took a moment to go check on her.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, sounding unenthusiastic.

“Do you miss him?”

“Bucky? Yeah, I miss him,” Hillary said. “He wouldn’t have stayed for this party, though. He doesn’t like large crowds. If it’s just our family, he’s fine, but more than that…” Hillary broke off, shaking her head.

Cody put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. He left her, but a minute later she came over to talk with Cody and their cousins. 

Hillary had to fend off inquiries once or twice from some of her aunts about a young man she was dating.


	2. In the Arms of Mercy

He had been walking for two days since leaving the bus station. The instinct to hide had returned to him before too long: he stayed down alleyways and back roads and avoided the busy main streets, though they may have gotten him there faster. 

He now stood facing the homeless shelter from across the street. He stayed partly hidden behind a tree as he scouted out the entrance: down the street from him was a man who appeared to be watching the vicinity from the inside of a car. 

But he was a lot more afraid of what was inside of the building than out of it. 

When the man was distracted and the cars going down the road were less numerous, he jaywalked, running with his jacket flapping behind him, his duffel bag banging against his shoulder. He continued running across the small parking lot and slowed to a walk right before the entrance. 

He didn’t bother sneaking a peek through the glass doors. He only gave himself time for two deep breaths, and he entered. The first thing he heard was someone calling his name, but it wasn’t Grace’s voice.

“Bucky,” said Andrea Means, who was stationed at the front desk. He remembered her name almost right away. A couple of people who were in the waiting area looked up at him.

“Hello, Andrea, how are you?” he asked. He gave her a smile.

“Wow, I’m doing great, how are you?” she said, beaming at him. “We haven’t seen you in a while, where’ve you been?”

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the Arizona Cardinals logo on his duffel bag wasn’t showing--but if anyone asked, he could have gotten it anywhere. “Oh, here and there,” he said, shrugging and trying to sound confident.

“Wow, you’re not nearly as clammed up as you were last time you were here,” she said, lowering her glasses.

“I get that a lot.” He decided to go ahead and ask the important question before she could say anything else. “So where’s Grace?”

Andrea’s smile faltered. “Grace no longer works here,” she said. “She graduated and now she has a new job at a law office in downtown Denver.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “That’s...good for her,” he said.

“I figured you would ask about her,” said Andrea. “She hadn’t quite forgotten you either, by the time she left us.”

“When did she leave?”

“Beginning of March. So she’s been gone for a month and a half now. But she keeps in touch. I’m friends with her on Facebook. She’s doing pretty good. So yeah.”

“Well...that’s great to hear, I guess,” said Bucky, his shoulders definitely slumping.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Andrea.

“It’s okay,” he recovered. “I’m okay.”

“Well, are you going to head on back out?”

“Well...I was already planning on staying here for a few days anyway. I guess I’ll do that. I might as well.” 

“Very well,” said Andrea. “I’ll get you signed back up for a bed.” She went and got the form for the men’s sleeping area. He was the third person on that sheet for the day, and he   
signed it Jason Retniw.

“Jason Retniw? Is that your real name?”

“It’s a pseudonymn,” he said. “A friend made it up for me.”

“Well, that’s smart of you to use it,” said Andrea. “You know, there’s people here from S.H.I.E.L.D. who are watching the shelter day and night, since October.--You know who S.H.I.E.L.D. is, right?”

He was alarmed to hear this but tried not to show it. “Really?” Could Hillary have warned him?

“Uh-huh. They haven’t really bothered us, but they’ve helped keep some sketchy characters from getting in here--apparently you have some kind of a past.”

“Whatever stories you’ve heard from them, they’re true.”

“Including from Captain America?”

“Yes--has he been here too?”

“He came right before Christmas. Him and a friend of his named Sam Wilson.”

“Really. Interesting. I knew they were working together. I’m not surprised.”

“Well, we can keep you safe here,” said Andrea. “Did you want to get a hold of them?”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Bucky as he stepped away from the desk. “I suppose I’ll talk to you later.”

“You too. It’s nice seeing you again. If there’s anything you need, let me know.”

“Will do.” 

 

One of the first people he saw in the living area was the old Russian fellow, Mikhailovsky. Bucky greeted him in Russian, interrupting his conversation with somebody else. Mikhailovsky looked up at him in surprise and then smiled. Bucky’s Russian was pretty rusty at that point. He kind of wished he had asked Hillary if she knew how to speak Russian. But that was only one of his few regrets about leaving Arizona.

He didn’t really get the chance to speak with Mikhailovsky after that, during the first week he spent at the shelter. He sometimes thought maybe he should try to interact with the other residents of the shelter and make friends with them, but he knew if he put himself out there too much people would ask questions. They always did. 

Once when he went up to the front desk to chat with the other shelter director, Mabel Grant, she told him that the S.H.I.E.L.D. guy keeping watch at the shelter had come in to ask about Bucky. He thanked her for telling him to leave.


	3. Target Acquired

After Cody’s homecoming, Hillary flew to Washington, D.C. Mitch picked her up and took her to the rented office building that S.H.I.E.L.D. was now using as headquarters. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the Triskelon, but Hillary supposed she would get used to it in time.

On her arrival, Coulson called her into his office to chat with her--just to talk about her weekend and her brother mostly, and he wanted to fill her in on what was happening at the headquarters. 

When there was a lapse in the conversation, Hillary spoke up. “So Bucky has returned to Denver.”

“Oh, okay,” said Coulson, nodding. The news didn’t interest him much.

“I wrote Steve an email, saying he could go look for him there if he wanted.”

“Okay, good.”

“I dropped him off myself at the Greyhound station. My parents gave him plenty of cash, so we’ll see if it’ll last him before he finds his girl again.”

“Fair enough,” said Coulson. “I suppose we’ve got bigger things to worry about than Bucky Barnes, however.”

At that moment, Agent Peterson opened the door and poked his head inside. “Sir, Agent Matthews needs to speak with you.”

“I’ll be right there,” said Coulson, getting out of his chair. “We’ll talk more later, Hillary.”

“Yes, sir.” Hillary stood up as if to follow Coulson, but then she stopped. He had left the door open and she could hear him talking to Matthews and Petersen.

She turned around. On the wall behind Coulson’s desk was a shelf covered with mementoes. They had distracted her the entire time Coulson had talked to her. 

She got behind the desk to examine the shelf more closely. There was one of his Captain America trading cards, bloodstained and signed by Cap himself and framed. There was a picture of him with the Avengers minus Steve, probably taken at Stark Tower. There was also a photograph of him with a girl in a yellow bridesmaid dress--Emily Bridger. Her hair was short, so it must have been taken after she had gone deep undercover with Romanoff in Finland. They were both smiling and very happy. There was another framed picture of him with Emily, both dressed in Jedi costumes. It was from last Halloween. 

Had he known, then, that Emily would be taken from him just a few days later? 

And then the centerpiece of the collection was the lightsaber. Emily had left it. Hillary still couldn’t believe it. There wasn’t a lot of dust on the shelf around it. Coulson probably kept it up himself. 

Hillary picked it up and examined it. It had been polished recently, and the metal bits were so shiny that they reflected her face. She traced her fingers over the switch gently but   
didn’t dare press it down. It looked like it would still work. 

Hillary had heard that Tony Stark had helped Emily build it. He probably still had the plans for it, but was he going to use them to help the Avengers? Did anyone else have this technology or know how it worked? And would Coulson let S.H.I.E.L.D. use it--or was he going to keep the lightsaber where it was, a memorial to his trainee and friend?

Hillary put the lightsaber hilt back down and returned to her cubicle. She was surprised that Coulson hadn’t returned to his office while she had been in there. 

 

Hillary and Mitch kept their desks close to Coulson’s office, and he called on them frequently to work on special tasks. There was a staff of ten people in Coulson’s office, only six of whom Hillary had known in the days before S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen. SHEILD’s other departments, much smaller than they once had been, occupied the office suites on three more floors of the building, and traffic between them and the Director’s office was frequent.

Agent Cameron Klein worked in the Technology and Satellite Logistics office downstairs. He had gained some notoriety during the crisis last April as the man who had stood up to Brock Rumlow and Hydra by refusing to launch the helicarriers. He was now the assistant to the director of his department and his curly hair and glasses were a regular sight on Hillary’s floor. 

“Do you take the elevator or the stairs when you come up here?” Hillary asked him once when he came to ask her about something.

“I take the stairs,” said Klein. “It keeps me in shape.”

“Well good for you,” said Hillary. 

“So I heard about your big op against Hydra in Arizona back in March,” Klein said to her. “That must’ve been fun, wasn’t it? Working with the Avengers?”

“It wasn’t all that,” said Hillary. “But I guess if I’d known you guys in D.C. would be jealous I might have enjoyed it more.” The document that she was printing for Klein emerged from the printer. She handed it to him. “Hot off the press. There you go. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Nope, that’ll be all. Thanks, Agent Tanner.” Klein left the suite. 

Hillary heard a rustling noise behind her. She whipped around to face Coulson’s office door. Coulson was leaning out of it, looking panicked.

“Hillary, Mitch, we’ve got a Skype call. It’s Sandro.”

She and Mitch got out of their chairs immediately. Coulson closed the door behind them. It was Sandro, all right, though he looked a little the worse for wear.

“How are you?” Hillary asked him.

“Doing well, Agent Tanner, doing well,” he said. She could see as he spoke that he was missing a few teeth. There was a sling over his shoulder for his arm, and he also had a   
black eye and a few scars on his face.

“What happened to you?” Mitch asked.

“It’s been three weeks since we met with you,” said Coulson. “You said it would be two.”

“I had a little bit of a hard time getting out of the country,” said Sandro. “The Sokovian government was watching for me at the checkpoints. I had to wait for a few days.”

“But how about your injuries?” said Coulson.

Sandro shrugged. “Just a few scratches.”

“Where are you now?” asked Mitch.

“I’m in Prague. I thought I’d get as far away as I could before calling you.”

“What were you doing?” asked Hillary.

“I was...well...here’s the thing. It isn’t any secret in Sokovia that Baron Strucker is up at that castle. But what he’s doing, nobody has any idea. The locals don’t trust him. They see him as a man trying to profit from the misfortunes of their people.”

“How so?” asked Coulson.

“Two and a half years ago, Strucker came into the area and he sent representatives into the city. They say he was looking for volunteers for certain scientific experiments. Human volunteers, you mind. He said he was looking for ways to fight the Avengers, to rival them, even. And he would give anyone who was interested the power to do so.”

“Power? What does that mean?”

“Nobody seems to know,” said Sandro. “But he was preying on a lot of people’s fears. A lot of people around this part of Eastern Europe hate the Avengers. And he offered a lot of compensation for whoever volunteered--equivalent of a million dollars each for whoever survived.”

Coulson swore.

“Where was he gonna get that kind of money?” asked Mitch.

“Well he is a Baron,” said Sandro, shrugging. “Probably family titles, resources. And up until a year ago, of course, he was working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. He was probably planning to   
siphon the money somehow. Nobody had anything to say on that matter.”

“The little leech!” said Coulson.

“For whoever survived the experiments?” asked Hillary. “Did he say what he was doing to them?”

“No,” Sandro shook his head. “He didn’t tell anybody what he was up to. But whoever went into that castle to participate had to sign an agreement saying they would surrender all   
forms of legal identity--he didn’t want them being traced. That’s what turned off a lot of people.”

“Well, did you get any names of people who had gone to join them?” asked Coulson.

“You could have told me to get that sooner,” said Sandro. “No, I didn’t.”

“So how did you get injured?”

“Well, is a good story. You know, all the stuff I’ve already told you, that’s just what I learned from people I talked to in the city. Then I decided to go and see what was happening   
up at the castle for myself.”

“Oh, I get it,” said Hillary. “That was smart How did that go?”

“Well, I spent two days watching the perimeter of the castle. Strucker has this private army patrolling the castle and the forest around it night and day, and they’re heavily armed.   
There’s trucks that go in and out of there at any given time--probably supplies, I guess, for the people who are working inside. I tried breaking in by going through the forest   
behind the castle, but the guards caught me, and they beat me up. And then I climbed into the back of one of the supply trucks that was going in, but they caught me, and they beat me up. They didn’t even want to take me to their leaders, they just fought to kill me, is the scary thing. But I managed to get out of there on an outgoing truck and run into the city to hide. I think they told the authorities that I was there, which is why I couldn’t get out.”

“Well, that was brave of you,” said Coulson, sighing. “Reckless, but brave. We thank you for your contribution.”

“You’re very welcome. And, er, how much are you compensating me for this?”

“You can send an email to our compensation office, and we’ll negotiate your pay later. I have some important things to discuss with my colleagues. Stay where you are for now   
and we’ll send you a wire with the money.”

“Yes, of course. Well, it was nice working for you, Mr. Coulson. You...have a good one, I guess.” Sandro made a weak attempt at a chuckle.

“Good day, Sandro.” Coulson hung up the skype call. 

“Woah,” said Hillary. “Well, we should at least pay him enough so he can cover his medical expenses. Don’t you think, Boss?”

“I think so,” said Coulson. “And then we can get him a plane ticket, so he can get out of the Czech Republic and back to wherever he came from. But sadly I think he’ll end up losing more on this job than he’s earning.”

“He can put it on his resume,” said Mitch. 

“Hm,” said Hillary. So we’ve found Strucker. Now what?” The three of them looked out of Coulson’s window with their arms folded.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, boss?” said Mitch.

“Exactly,” said Coulson. He turned around and walked out of the office, followed by his assistants.

He led them to Agent Kara Lyman’s cubicle across the room.

“Kara, I need you to call Maria Hill. Tell her to phone me the moment the Avengers come back to Stark Tower.”

“I’ll do that, sir,” said Kara, dialing on her office phone.

Coulson began to head back to his office.

“Sir, what do you need us to do?” asked Hillary.

“Wait for Hill to call me back.”

“Could you help me with something really fast?” Mitch asked him.

“Sure.” Coulson stepped over to Mitch’s cubicle to help him with the project.

“Say, boss,” Hillary asked when they were finished, “how long are we going to be up here in Washington?”

“I don’t know,” said Coulson. “I think once Strucker is taken care of in Sokovia there won’t really be much left for us to do. We’ll have to keep Hydra from popping back up every   
so often, but we’ll be leaving that to our field agents.”

“So should I just go ahead and move my stuff back here? Get an apartment?”

“You could, if you wanted. I might not give you time to go on a road trip and bring your stuff out, however.”

“That’s okay,” said Hillary, sighing. “Crap, I just moved back home a year ago. Thought I’d never get out of this place.”

“I like like it here,” said Mitch. 

Just then, Agent Lyman walked up to them.

“Sir, I just got off the phone with Maria Hill,” she told them. “The Avengers have already come back. They’ll call you right away.”

“Excellent,” said Coulson, rubbing his hands together. “Hillary, Mitch, nobody disturbs my office for the next half an hour, is that clear? And if they want me, they’ll talk to you.”

“Got it,” said Mitch.

“Yes, sir,” said Hillary.

Coulson went into his office and closed the door.

Hillary had to take a couple of calls from people from different departments, and a few people came up to her and Mitch asking to speak with the director.

“Can it wait?” Hillary said to one of them. “He’s taking an urgent call right now.”

“My thing is urgent,” said Agent Slaker from the Field Resources Office.

“This is the Avengers.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll come back.” Slaker backed away, looking abashed. 

The thirty minute call stretched to forty-five minutes. The work was slow, so she checked her Facebook and answered a text from her dad. Mitch was giving off bored sighs every few minutes.

“When’ll they be done?” he said hoarsely. “What’s happening in there?”

Mitch was acting exactly the way she felt. But she was too irritated with him to express it. 

The door behind them creaked open. They both jumped and turned around.

“Well?” Mitch asked.

Coulson straightened his tie and pulled his jacket. “Well, they’re going to Sokovia. Tomorrow. They just barely got back from their last trip so they’ll catch their breath first. But Romanoff told me to give Sandro a bonus and Cap said to take you guys to dinner.”

“Both of us?” said Hillary.

“Don’t be absurd, Hillary. Steve hasn’t got time to be upset about you anymore. Besides, he’s pleased with your work in Eastern Europe. You got the tip that leads them to Hydra and Baron Strucker. So there.”

“Cool,” said Hillary. It was probably a bigger deal than she felt like expressing at the moment.

“So what’d I miss?” Coulson asked. Hillary filed in Coulson on the people who wanted to talk to him. Coulson was pretty busy the rest of the afternoon. But as soon as they were off from work, Coulson took Hillary and Mitch in his car--it was definitely his car that he had bought, Coulson said to them--and he took them to eat at Ginger’s Italian   
Restaurant. It had been Hillary’s favorite place to eat out the last time she had lived in D.C., and Mitch had never been. 

“Question, though,” said Mitch after the waiter had taken their orders.

“Go ahead,” said Coulson.

“Considering why Hydra is in Sokovia in the first place--because people there hate the Avengers--do you think sending them there is a good idea?”

“Nonsense. They’ll have it under control,” said Coulson. He paused for a moment and added, “The castle is a good distance away from the city. The civilian casualties should be minimal. They always take precautions, protecting civilians. And most people like them for that. In fact, you could say this is the Avengers’ chance to make a good impression in Sokovia.”

“They’ll blow it,” Hillary shrugged. 

“Be optimistic, Tanner. Come on.”

“I’m just teasing,” said Hillary. “But really, though, they’ve only been able to avoid maximum casualties out of sheer luck. Who’s to say this is where their streak ends?”

“Well, the team is actually planning on breaking up as soon as they’ve got Strucker taken care of,” said Coulson. “He represents the most important remaining part of Hydra. They’ll go out with a bang. After that, S.H.I.E.L.D. is in charge of whatever remnants are left. And when they’ve taken Loki’s sceptre, Thor will be returning it to Asgard.”

“What?” said Hillary.

“I know, I know,” said Coulson. “But I got to see him a couple of weekends ago and he said goodbye to me then. It’s been a year and a half almost since the Convergence, and this is the longest Thor has remained in one place. He says it’s time for him to be moving on.”

“But what about that girl he’s with, the astrophysicist?”

“Her career took a turn after last semester. She got invited to speak at several different symposiums on her work. She and Thor agreed it was for the best if they separated. He wasn’t planning to stay here permanently in the first place anyhow.”

“Well that’s dumb,” said Hillary. “Pick up a girl and then leave her. But, I guess, it’s his problem.

“Well, it’s not like they’re not still in love, they’re just...not together. But, anyway,” said Coulson, “the Avengers didn’t want to stick together permanently. I mean, most people think it’s a good idea to always have something in place to respond to threats. But these guys--ideally they only get along if they’re all slightly inebriated, which is saying something because some of them don’t really get drunk.” 

Hillary laughed appreciatively. 

“But, I have faith in those guys. I always have. As long as they’ve got a reason to fight, they’ll do great together. And then they’ll leave. And everything will be fine.”

“But this is Hydra we’re talking about,” said Mitch. “‘Cut off one head, two more take its place’, right?”

“Well, they’re not planning on disbanding permanently. And Captain Rogers says--”

The waiter arrived just then with their drinks--diet coke for Hillary, sprite for Mitch, and Pepsi for Coulson.

“So anyway,” said Coulson after the waiter had gone, “Captain Rogers says that if Hydra causes any serious problems in the future, he’ll be on it. He’s not done. But he’s going to take a break for now, once they’ve dealt with Strucker."

“Will he go to Denver?” asked Hillary.

“We’ll see,” said Coulson.

“I dunno, boss,” said Mitch. “I kinda don’t think everything will go as smoothly for them as we’d like.”

“I said be optimistic, Sorensen.”

“Okay. Whatever.” Mitch didn’t sound like he wanted to put away his misgivings just yet.

“Do you do toasts with non-alcoholic drinks sometimes, boss?” asked Hillary.

“Should we do one right now?” asked Coulson.

“I think the situation calls for it. To the Avengers?” She raised her cup of diet coke.

“To the Avengers,” said Coulson, raising his glass. 

“The Avengers.” Mitch clinked his cup with the others and they drank. 

 

The next morning, things were going slowly. Hillary was wondering what the Avengers were up to when her phone rang. The caller ID said Steve Rogers. She wondered if he had butt-dialed her. But she picked it up anyway.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Hillary, I was hoping I’d catch you,” said Steve.

“Steve, hi. How’s it going?”

“It’s going pretty good. And by the way, thank you again for the tip on Strucker.”

“It wasn’t me, it was Coulson.”

“You helped.”

Hillary laughed. “So when do you guys leave?”

“In another hour. We want to be in Sokovia at nightfall so we can attack at dawn tomorrow.” He was then interrupted by someone on the other end. “Oh, actually, that was Tony   
just now, saying we’re leaving in two hours. Hold on one sec.” Steve pulled away from the receiver but she could still hear him. “Tony, what the (expletive) do you mean we can’t leave sooner?...Well, hurry up! I don’t want any more delays!--Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” said Hillary. “You’re just doing your job.”

“Thanks. So anyway, I wanted to call and tell you that we should be back in about two days. And when I get back from Sokovia, we are going to have a long talk about why you   
shouldn’t take Steve’s stuff.”

“You know you’re an actual five-year-old sometimes?”

“I do. But you should see Tony Stark. But anyway, are we clear about that?”

“Yes, I understand.” Hillary saw Mitch in the next cubicle looking at her and smirking. She would have to tell him later to mind his own business. “Did you get my email?”

“Yes, I did, and I read it on the way home yesterday.” Steve sighed. “We haven’t even been home for twenty-four hours, Tanner.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but maybe next time you can call ahead and tell us you need a break.”

“Right. Well, anyway. I will talk to you when I get back from Sokovia.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You don’t need to call me ‘Sir.’”

“Can I call you Captain?”

“No. Steve is just fine.”

“Are you sure I didn’t lose the right to call you that?”

“I’ve got more important things to do than stay mad at you, Hillary. But I’ll call you when I get back. We’ll talk it through.”

“Okay.”

“Later, then.”

“You too. And watch your language.”

“Hey, I’m a soldier. I swear.”

“Well, can I call you out for it?”

“Anytime.”

“Bye.”

“Bye-bye.”

Hillary hung up and put the phone back on her desk. Mitch was still grinning at her like an idiot.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just...amused--”

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

Mitch laughed.

“This isn’t funny, Mitch,” said Hillary. “Cap’s going to be calling me back, and he wants to chew me out when he does. I guess I’ll hear back from him in two days, then.” She straightened herself in front of her desk and got back to work on the report she was reading.

“I’m sure not looking forward to it.”

But the two days came and went, and Steve never called.


	4. Home Intruder

Cody was getting back into a regular exercise routine. In the mornings he went jogging from his parents’ house to the nearby park and meandered through the neighborhood in between. It was still springtime and the infamous summer heat had not yet arrived, and the mornings were breezy and pleasant. He didn’t take a music player with him but tried to immerse himself in his surroundings.

One morning he came back to the house after his run feeling in good spirits. He got a tall glass of water from the tank and drank deeply, leaning against the counter as he did so. His father had gone to work a long time ago. His mother was home but most likely in her room. He had the house to himself, which would be fine since he wanted to use the computer to work on his community college application--

There was a knock--not on the front door but on the kitchen door. 

Cody went to answer it, a little curious.

The man standing at the door was tall but rather plump and round-faced. He wore a trenchcoat, glasses, and a rain hat.

“Good morning to you,” said the man, beaming at him.

“Er, good morning,” said Cody.

“Is your sister home?”

“Which sister, Hillary?”

“Yes, the younger one.” 

“Um,” he had a bad feeling about this. “She’s at work, right now.”

“When will she be home?”

“Oh, she’s actually in Washington, D.C. right now,” said Cody. “So she won’t be home tonight.”

The man’s genial smile slid a little, but he maintained his composure. “Can I come in?” the man asked. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” said Cody, though feeling at the same time that this wasn’t quite what he should do.

“Thank you.”

The man crossed the threshold, pushing Cody aside as he did. Cody shut the door and followed the man into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” asked Cody. He wanted to see if he could find out who the man was and what he was after.

“Oh, no thank you,” said the man. He sat down on a stool at the counter without being invited. Yet he kept his hands in his pockets. Cody was beginning to wonder how the man had knocked in the first place. Then the door to the master bathroom opened and in stepped his mother.

“Cody, who is this?” Jo asked. She looked a little uncertainly at the man.

“I was just passing through the neighborhood,” said the man. “I am looking for some information about a missing person who was seen here not long ago. Perhaps you could help me.”

Jo’s face stiffened. “Who are you looking for?”

“A homeless man. Tall, long dark hair. And a prosthetic arm.”

“If you’re looking for Bucky, you’ve come too late,” said Jo. “He’s gone.”

“Then maybe you could tell me where he’s gone.”

“I don’t feel the need to tell you. Now who are you?”

“That is of no consequence.” The man slid off the bar stool. “But I need to know, ma’am. Where is the Winter Soldier?” The man walked across the floor approaching Jo. Cody   
was standing behind him.

Cody grabbed the man from behind, linking his arms around his neck. The man gave a horrible yell and pulled his arms out of his pockets. But he had no hands. Instead he had long, pink tentacles like an octopus’, suckers included. Cody screamed as the man grabbed Cody around the back with the tentacles. They actually weren’t as wet or slimy as he thought they would be. But the suckers HURT. The man flung Cody over his back and onto the floor--Cody rolled and hit the carpet. Cody glanced away for half a second to see if his mother was all right. She had gone. But the man got his attention as he yelled again and lunged at Cody with his tentacles forward. Either it was a trick of the light or the arms were stretching. When the man was close enough, Cody grabbed his coat and pulled him to the floor. Cody climbed on top of him, but then the man rolled him over. Cody was still clinging to the trenchcoat, and it ripped. The man stood up and shook the remnants of the coat from off himself. He was wearing a normal collared shirt, but the tentacled arms made the rolled-up sleeves appear abnormally full.

Cody glanced around himself for something to use as a weapon. He ended up picking up one of the heavy dining chairs. The tentacles wrapped around the crossbar and attempted to pull the chair out of Cody’s hands. Cody decided to take the chair and push the man against the counter, but the man pushed back.

“Do you got him, Cody?” asked Jo. She suddenly reappeared in the living room, this time with a long black rifle in her hands.

“You know how to use that?” he asked his mother.

“I sure hope so.”

“This violence is pointless, madam,” said the tentacled man. “All I ask for is your cooperation. Now tell your son to leave me alone.”

“You get out of our house first.” Jo pointed the barrel of the rifle at the man’s chest.

The man laughed. He swung the chair and pushed Cody to one side. He crossed the room in three strides and grabbed the barrel of the gun, yanking it away from Jo with a jerk.   
Jo let out a gasp and she fell down. The tentacles touched the trigger and the shot fired, going through the ceiling. But as he pointed the gun at Jo, Cody stood up, picked up the chair, and hit him over the back of the head. There was a crack, and the man fell down. 

Cody ran to his mother’s side. She was slowly moving up into a kneeling position.

“Are you all right, Mom?” he asked, kneeling next to her. 

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good. See if you can pin him down.”

Cody went to the kitchen and opened one of the drawers, retrieving a roll of duct tape. The man was still struggling on the floor, but Jo leaned the chair on top of his chest and   
pushed downward, kicking him in the head. 

Cody started by taping the tentacles together, making a few noises of disgust as he did so. When the tentacles had minimal binding on them, he put tape over the man’s mouth.

“Mom, get a blindfold for this guy,” he said.

“Yes, Cody,” said Jo, returning to her room.

Cody wrapped more duct tape around the man’s arms, and then he started to work on his legs, which, thankfully, were normal. Then he pinned the man’s upper arms to his chest.

“Do we got any more duct tape?” said Cody, showing the roll to his mother. It was nearly empty. 

“Yes. Here’s the blindfold,” she said, handing him a paisley kerchief.

“Thanks, Mom.” He blindfolded the man. His mother went to the garage and returned within a minute with a new roll of duct tape, but the man was lying still now.

“So what do we do with him?” asked Jo.

“We call the police, I guess,” said Cody.

“No, I think we’d better call S.H.I.E.L.D. first,” said Jo. “This is the sort of thing they deal with. Hillary left us a number.” 

 

Hillary was surprised to get a call from Agent Parsons in Arizona that afternoon. 

“You say a WHAT broke into my house?” she asked, yelling into the phone.

“An Enhanced. That’s the term--”

“I KNOW what an Enhanced is, thank you, Parsons,” said Hillary. “But how did he get there?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” said Parsons. “We suspect that Hydra’s base Lambda in Las Vegas is still active.”

“And they’re doing human experimentation by the sound of it,” she grumbled. She sighed. “Is my family okay?”

“Yes, your family’s okay. Your mother and brother were home at the time. They managed to subdue the enhanced by themselves. Pretty impressive, considering how the guy had   
tentacles.”

“Tentacles?” 

“Yes. They’re both doing just fine. Your mother got cut on the head and your brother has a few bruises, but they’re all right. But they told me that the man was looking for the   
Winter Soldier.”

“Oh. I guess they didn’t tell him anything.”

“I guess not. But Hillary, that is the last time you keep a genetically engineered super assassin at your house. Got it?”

Hillary didn’t know what to say to that. She hung up.

“I am DONE,” she said, partly to herself and partly to Mitch. “I am a hundred and ten percent DONE.”

“Done?” asked Mitch. “With what?”

“Hydra.”

“Oh. Okay. But don’t worry, the Avengers have arrested Strucker and taken out his base.”

Hillary sniffed. “That doesn’t change the fact that they actually got into my house this time.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

Hillary got up and went to Coulson’s office. Coulson was sitting at his desk complacently. Hillary slammed her wrists on the end of the table.

“Tentacles!” she said.

“What?” asked Coulson.

“Hydra sent a guy with TENTACLES to attack my family.”

“Well, Hillary -- “

“Boss, don’t you really think it’s time we sent someone to take out the Lambda base?” 

“Hillary, when the strike team got there, they found the base abandoned. They’d somehow gotten a tip. What more do you want?”

“I’ll go to Vegas and find them myself,” said Hillary.

“Hillary, the last time I was in Vegas--”

“The last time you were in Vegas, blah blah blah,” said Hillary, pacing and waving her arms. “Things have changed for Hydra. And now that their head guru has been taken down,   
we should do something about it.”

“Hillary, we can’t. The Avengers are breaking up and there’s no telling how or when they will get back together. We have no way we can track down the Lambda base. It would be impossible for me to get permission for a S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team to go in. Lambda might not even be in Vegas anymore.”

Hillary sat down in the chair across from Coulson’s desk.

“I’m sorry. But we’ll do what we can to protect your family. Something more permanent, considering you’ve made yourself a target of considerable value to Hydra. I’ll look into it personally.”

“Can I go home?”

“If you’re feeling bad right now, yes,” said Coulson. 

“Thanks boss.”

“You’re welcome.” He opened his drawer and gave her some cash. “And here, buy a diet coke from me.”

“You know me too well.” 

Hillary went to her desk to get her things. She signed out of her computer and headed out of the office suite for the elevator.

She saw Agent Klein step out of the elevator when it opened for her.

“Hey, Agent Tanner, how’s it going?”

Hillary glared at him. She sent Steve a text.

Hey, Steve, this is Hillary. I hope you kicked Hydra’s butt for me. 

Hopefully it would prompt him to call her when he got back to New York. 

 

On the drive back to her hotel, she called her family. Her dad had come home early for work, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had collected the tentacled man.

“Though, Agent Swill told me, he doesn’t have any idea what they’re going to do with him,” Cody said with a nervous chuckle. 

“I’m just glad you guys are okay,” said Hillary. “Wow, I’m so impressed, you guys took a Hydra guy out by yourselves. But he was definitely after Bucky?”

“Yes, he was,” said Jo. Her family was on conference call with her.

“Well, it’s a good thing he finally left,” she said. “But if it means anything good, they haven’t found him yet.” 

“That’s one way to look at it,” Trey answered.

“But, Cody, you should know better than to let a random stranger in the house. Or at least one that’s not telling you his intentions.”

“Right. There was definitely something fishy about him. But we’re all right,” said Cody.

“Good. Now, I’ll talk to Agent Parsons later, but Director Coulson says he’s going to see about getting permanent protection for you guys.”

“Well, what does that mean?” asked Jo. “Certainly not like the last time where the police were parked on the corner every night.”

“No, probably not something that drastic,” said Hillary. “S.H.I.E.L.D. can usually arrange something more subtle.”

“Just as long as it’s nothing too invasive to our privacy,” said Trey.

“Maybe you can see if there’s a way to get Hydra to not pay attention to us,” said Cody.

“Good idea,” said Hillary.

“Just as long as we don’t have to move,” said Jo.

“Right. I guess that would be our last resort,” said Hillary. “But it won’t come to that. I sure am sorry about this, you guys.”

“It’s not your fault, Hillary,” Jo reassured her.

Hillary knew perfectly well, however, that if anyone was to blame for this, it was her. She had invited Bucky into the house in the first place last Thanksgiving. It had been his   
choice to stay afterward, for sure, but it had been her doing. 

There was little, she realized, she could do about it. Coulson couldn’t call for an investigation to find Base Lambda, and he wouldn’t let her out of his sight either. And the Avengers, it seemed, were finished for the time being. S.H.I.E.L.D. would be left to deal with the remnants of Hydra. 

 

But about a week after Steve had called Hillary, the Avengers went to Africa.


	5. Denver in the Time of Ultron

The television in the sitting room was set to CNN so that the patrons could watch the news on the world’s ongoing troublesome events. Tuesday’s news was that Iron Man and the Hulk had been seen fighting each other in a city in southern Africa. So far hundreds were injured and the death toll was mounting, and entire buildings had been leveled. 

“It seems that the Avengers have lost whatever restraint they were aiming for,” said one grim-faced news commentator. “Well, Iron Man and Hulk at least. But have any of the others shown up?” asked the host. “Is Thor or Captain America hanging around there trying to control the damage?”

“No, no one has really seen them,” said the on-site reporter. “There have been rumors that Captain America was in the shipyard that Iron Man came from where the attack began. It could be possible that he was somehow incapacitated before his two friends lost control.”

“That may be right,” said the host. “It is unusual for Captain America to be so close to this kind of trouble and not even trying to stop it. The Captain has become such a huge advocate for--”

“Has anyone seen the remote?” said Bucky loudly. The other shelter patrons watching the news were startled back to reality.

“Here,” said someone who hadn’t been as offended by the interruption. Bucky walked across the room and took the remote, and he started switching channels. He passed several more news stations as well as countless channels on commercial break, until finally he came to a comedy channel with some afternoon reruns playing. 

“Gimme that,” said one of the other residents, who grumpily got out of his chair and seized the remote from Bucky, and changed it back to CNN.

Bucky stuffed his good hand back into his jacket pocket and went to the cafeteria. It wasn’t worth getting into a fight over the remote.

Later in the day he returned to the sitting room. CNN was talking about a candidate in an upcoming election, and he was able to sit in the corner without being disturbed. 

A couch not far from his chair was occupied by a middle-aged man even scruffier than he was who wore baggy clothes and had horrific scars on his face, including a scarred eye that no longer saw.

Another man walked into the room, probably not older than forty but walking with a cane to support a leg that stuck out at a weird angle.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked the first man.

“Go ahead,” said the man with the bad eye. “Where’d you get beat up at, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

“Afghanistan, second tour,” said the man with the cane as he sat himself down carefully. “The army discharged me and I haven’t been able to get benefits.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. I’m in the same boat. I was in Vietnam. What’s your name, friend?”

“Miles. Robert Miles, formerly a corporal.” 

“Kelly Smithson, how do you do?” They shook hands. 

“So it’s been, what, thirty years since Vietnam?” said Miles.

“Longer,” said Smithson. He launched into a story that the listener in the corner didn’t quite pay attention to the details of, but the long and short of it was how he lost his eye in   
the war and how he lost his benefits afterward. 

“Well, that was quite a rough trip,” said Miles when he finished. 

“Do you got a better one?” asked Smithson.

“You think?”

“Try me.”

“So, there we were, almost ten years ago, in a remote valley in northern Afghanistan,” said Miles, spreading his hands out. “We had some insurgents holed up in this cave near a forest, and we were watching it day and night. Some of the men in my unit reported that there was a jeep that liked to pull up in the valley below, and a few guys who didn’t exactly look local who would go up at night to the cave. They would take weapons or food with them, and we thought there was money going up there, too. So we set a trap for the guys to capture them, ask them a few questions. That sort of thing. We scared them off the first time. A few nights later they come back. We’re waiting for them in the woods. But we’re not alone.” Miles lapsed into silence, the casualness gone from his voice.

“I’m on a hillside overlooking a road. When we’re getting ready to open fire on the goons, a bomb goes off to my right. Screaming men, blood everywhere. I go to see what’s happening. Ten seconds later, another bomb goes off on the left. The goons are taking off in their jeep. I rally a few guys who are okay and we go after them. And then, over the top of the hill, somebody comes. Not very tall, dressed mostly in black. Wearing a mask on his face. Got a heavy gun in his hands. He starts shooting. I get hit in my leg. He walks through the woods, doesn’t say a word, shoots anybody that moves. I ducked for cover behind a tree. The goons in the jeep come back from doing their business, then another truck comes, the dude in black goes with them. It wasn’t until I was sure they were gone that I radioed for help.” Miles proceeded to tell Smithson about his injuries and subsequent physical therapy, the descriptions of which were rather gruesome. But Smithson laughed good-naturedly. 

“And did anybody else in your unit make it?” Lawson asked more seriously.

“No,” said Miles soberly. “I was the only one. The dude in the mask took out anyone that the bombs didn’t finish. The snow on the ground was more red than white when I left….but when I told my commanders what had happened, they said they would investigate, and I never heard back on it. The official story was that it had been insurgents. I tried telling the full story, though, when I applied for benefits. Nobody believed me, and that’s how I lost out.” 

“You’re kidding,” said Lawson. “Who was that guy?”

“No idea,” said Miles. “I get the feeling I don’t want to know. But he comes back, sometimes, haunting my dreams. His mask was kind of like Darth Vader’s, buggy eyes and everything. And he had long hair, really filthy. People seriously thought I was making this up.”

“Not that I’m not on your side, man, but I don’t blame them,” said Smithson. “That’s something straight out of a nightmare.”

“But they’re wrong,” the silent man in the corner spoke up. “You were telling the truth. They should have believed you.” 

Miles and Smithson looked at him, their eyes widening with surprise at the interruption.

“I’m sorry, I almost didn’t see you there,” said Smithson. 

“Miles, I’m sorry about what happened to your unit,” he said, sitting up. “But if you’re looking for someone to blame, don’t blame the assassin. Blame the people he was working   
for.” 

“Excuse me, but who are you?” said Miles.

“I’m nobody,” he said. His throat felt tight, and he swallowed. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He got to his feet and left the room.

“What was that about?” he heard Smithson saying behind him.


	6. Live from the Front Lines

The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. had been the worst weekend of Hillary’s life: the age of Ultron was the most chaotic week of work in Hillary’s career thus far. When the Hulk and Iron Man’s Hulkbuster had ravaged the streets of a city in Africa, Hillary was called in from her day off. It only went downhill from there. 

In the days following the Africa incident she was on the phone half of the time talking to people: the press who wanted to call S.H.I.E.L.D. and get some kind of inside scoop on the Avengers (“they’ve gone into hiding--no, I don’t know where”; “no, I don’t know what they’re doing in Korea and I don’t know where the robots came from!”); and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stationed in Africa and Korea who needed Coulson’s oversight to help with damage control and cleanup and giving him reports. Nobody seemed to know what was going on. Coulson said that he had it on authority from a private source that there was an Artificial Intelligence running around named Ultron--where Ultron had come from, he was reluctant to share even that. Ultron had some kind of vendetta against the Avengers but that was about all Hillary or her colleagues could guess.

On average she went through about five bottles of diet coke in a day and she was getting almost sick of the stuff. Once or twice she caught Mitch more or less accidentally drinking from her bottle. She was working from about six in the morning to ten at night, and in between she was constantly getting phone calls and updates and texts from Coulson asking her to do this and that for her really quick on the computer, so she wasn’t getting much sleep. There was some kind of virus constantly trying to break into the S.H.I.E.L.D. computer system. They were arranging extra protection for nuclear facilities, the Pentagon, military bases, and other resources that could possibly be “targeted”--by Ultron, though nobody said it. 

Most of the people who worked at S.H.I.E.L.D. these days knew that Nick Fury had gone into hiding after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell over a year ago. Wherever he had gone, he came back the day after the Korea incident. The old Helicarrier was lying unused in Baltimore. Fury wanted as many people as were willing to come to help him fly it. The Avengers, he said, were going back to Sokovia, and they would need all of the help they could get. Coulson specifically asked Hillary and Mitch to stay behind and help him keep things running in D.C.

 

“So let me get this straight,” said Hillary on their drive back from seeing off the Helicarrier in Baltimore. “And this is just going off from what I’ve heard other people saying and what Fury said. Ultron was an AI built by Tony Stark to replace the Avengers. And he created it using Loki’s sceptre, which he found in Sokovia. Ultron recruited the Maximoff twins, who survived Strucker’s experiments, to help him fight the Avengers. In Africa he stole some contraband vibranium, and in Korea he broke into the U-Gin genetics lab to build a vibranium--weird--being. And he’s also using robots that were created by Hydra. And Nick Fury is going out to help the Avengers because he thinks that Ultron has some intense plan to destroy the world. Is all of that accurate?”

“Yes,” said Coulson.

“Wow. Okay.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of crazy,” Coulson commented when Hillary remained silent. “But I guess it kind of explains the craziness we’ve been going through.”

“How much of this did you know, boss?”

“I knew that Ultron was created by Stark,” said Coulson. “But beyond that, I didn’t know anything.”

“Was there a valid reason why?” asked Hillary. “Was he supposed to be some kind of global protection program? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Yeah.”

“But then why did he turn bad?”

“I don’t know,” said Coulson. “But the Avengers were breaking up in a few days. Tony may have wanted something to replace them. Something more permanent.”

“Uh-huh. But you’ve been telling me that the Avengers would come together again as the need dictated. Did Tony Stark not want that?”

“I don’t know,” said Coulson. He was quiet for a moment. Then he gave his answer. “I know that Stark has had a lot of issues, with being Iron Man. More than the rest put together, he’s struggled with his identity as a superhero. I wouldn’t blame him for trying to come up with a way to not have to go out and fight any more.” 

“He’s struggled? Really?”

“You remember the Mandarin incident? It happened while you were in S.H.I.E.L.D. school--”

“I remember that, yeah.”

“And then of course, S.H.I.E.L.D. falling. Tony was banking a lot on Insight to help keep the world safe. And it didn’t work out. Shaken might be too strong of a word, but--”

“I get it,” said Hillary. “But Cap was shaken even worse.”

They were both quiet.

“So, um, how about the Maximoff twins, then?” Hillary asked. “They were fighting with Ultron. Now they’re fighting with the Avengers. Whose side are they on?”

“Their own. I guess Ultron did something they didn’t really like.”

“Hmph. That wouldn’t have been too hard. What are their powers again?”

“So it’s a brother and sister, fraternal twins. Pietro, he’s the brother, he can run really fast to any location. And Wanda, well, it’s harder to explain. She can do telekinesis and manipulate matter, but I’ve also heard she was fighting the Avengers by using mind control on them. Maria Hill keeps them straight by saying he’s fast and she’s weird.”

“He’s fast and she’s weird, got it.”

“The codename for Pietro is Quicksilver. But Wanda, apparently they’ve taken to calling her the Witch.”

“Why, because she’s weird?”

“True. But I think Tony Stark originally was calling her something different. Apparently, Steve Rogers has been telling him to watch his language.”

The realization struck Hillary within moments. “Ooooah. I gotcha.” She laughed.

“Why, what’s so funny?”

“It’s funny. Steve called me right before they went to Sokovia the first time. He was cussing at me and I told him to watch his language. I wonder if--”

Coulson burst out laughing. Hillary and Coulson laughed together in the car like a pair of idiots.

“Well, it’s part of the reason, anyway,” Hillary said, calming down.

“But still!”

It was the most she had been able to laugh all day, and it really relaxed her. When she got to her hotel that night, she decided to look up funny YouTube videos to help her   
unwind.

She also went through the pictures of Bucky on her phone. It was harder to laugh at these, mostly because she wondered if Steve would ever get to see them. By the sound of   
things, there was a really good chance that Ultron would kill him and his friends. 

She was fast asleep and dreaming of home when her phone rang. She reached over to her nightstand and picked it up. It was Coulson.

“Agent, I need you to come in.”

“What?”

“NOW.”

“What’s happening?”

“Don’t ask me what, just get here!”

It was three in the morning. She sincerely hoped that Coulson would have food for them at the office. She grabbed her last Diet Coke out of the hotel mini fridge, promising to save it for later in the day when she really needed it. 

She saw Mitch in the hallway on her way out, and they rode together to work, both of them rubbing their eyes and not saying much.

It was a nice late spring morning with a warm sort of darkness and crickets chirping. The lights were on in Coulson’s suite. Hillary vaguely wondered if Coulson had gone home at all last night. 

She unlocked the door to the office building. They didn’t turn on any of the lights in the entry hallway but walked straight to the elevator.

Coulson was in his office. He didn’t even look up when they came in. He just continued to stare gravely at the computer screen. Hillary and Mitch came around to see what he was watching.

It was a live news feed of an Eastern European news agency, she gathered from a quick translation of the caption reading LIVE FROM SOKOVIA. But what it was showing made her mouth drop.

“What is that?” she said, pointing to the computer screen.

“That is a meteorite,” said Coulson. “Ultron carved it out of the middle of Sokovia City. He’s going to get it high enough into the air so that it wipes out all life on the planet.”  
Mitch just stared wordlessly.

“Can I go back to bed?” asked Hillary.

“No.”

If nothing else, Coulson did not want to have to go through this alone. 

“Is the helicarrier there yet?” asked Mitch.

“No. They’re still several hours out,” Coulson shook his head.

They could see explosions and collapsing buildings from the top of the meteorite.

“What’s happening up there? Do we know?”

“All I know is that the Avengers were trying to evacuate the city before it started,” said Coulson.

“Have you contacted them?”

“I’m not gonna bother,” said Coulson. “I’m going to let them do their job.” But from the tone of his voice Hillary knew he was having a hard time keeping his hands away from the   
phone.

Hillary and Mitch both pulled chairs up. Hillary opened her last Diet Coke, and she drank few sips at a time, passing the bottle to Coulson and Mitch so they could get a few drops. She sent text messages to her family telling them that she loved them. It was 11 AM in Mesa. Her parents were watching the news. Julia had already gone to bed and was confused. Susan sent her a picture that she had taken that day of her children. 

She also sent a text to Mark.

Hey, Mark, IDK if you’re watching the news right now or anything, but just in case something bad happens in the next few hours I’ve enjoyed going on dates with you and being your friend. 

They did speculate a little bit as they watched the news feed . Nearly everyone else who worked at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters had gone on the helicarrier and they were sending messages back and forth from headquarters. Coulson did have Hillary go check and see how the event was being portrayed on the internet. There was a mixture of responses--terror that the world was ending, anger that the Avengers had allowed this to happen, and lots of confusion. 

Mark sent her a few texts asking what was going on--he was watching the news as well. But he told her not to worry.

The six people who had stayed behind came into work during the next several hours, and they all gathered in Coulson’s office to watch. One brave soul, Agent Linford, went to the break room and brought popcorn. A part of Hillary found it reprehensible--watching the possible end of the world wasn’t a spectator sport. But she was too tired to complain.

Long after the popcorn was gone and the sun was up, and when the city was miles high above the ground, and the news cameras had to pan out to keep sight of it-- the helicarrier finally arrived. Everyone gathered in the office sighed with relief. With the remaining civilians gone, the Avengers could fight Ultron’s army of robots and find a way to keep the meteorite from hitting the ground. Coulson switched to a live feed from the helicarrier. They watched in horror as Ultron’s minions attacked the helicarrier and the air rafts going between it and the floating city. Iron Man and his friend War Machine, who had come along with the helicarrier, defended it bravely. Then there were a few moments of suspense when the Avengers retreated to the center of the city to confront Ultron. Mitch and Hillary continued watching. Coulson, however, got the other members of the staff to work as technical support for the helicarrier. 

The Avengers were finally finished fighting, it looked like, and they went to get on board the air rafts. 

“Is that the QuinJet?” Mitch asked suddenly.

The QuinJet was zooming around the side of the city closest to the air rafts, shooting at everything in sight. 

“Who’s flying that?” asked Hillary. Something was terribly wrong here. Mitch went to go get Coulson.

Coulson came and watched them for a second. They saw a green shape jumping on board the helicarrier.

“That’s the Hulk,” said Coulson, pointing. 

“Yes, it is,” said Hillary. They saw the Hulk jump off the flight deck of the helicarrier and onto the QuinJet.

“I think he went inside it,” Hillary commented.

They saw something being thrown out.

“That’s gotta be Ultron,” said Coulson.

“Well, good riddance,” said Mitch. He and Coulson both went back out. Hillary wondered if maybe she needed to follow them and find something useful to do. But then suddenly the meteor dropped.

Hillary screamed. Coulson came running.

Hillary grabbed Coulson and hugged him, just in case it was the last thing she ever did.

“No, look!” said Mitch. He pointed at the computer screen. Above and below the falling meteor came huge bursts of light, causing it to break apart.

“That’s gotta be Thor and Iron Man,” said Coulson. 

“Oh my gosh.”

The meteor continued to fragment, and then the rocks fell harmlessly into a nearby lake on the Serbian border. 

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” said Hillary as she collapsed to her knees, her hand over her mouth. 

After several intense minutes, the air finally cleared. There was a massive crater in the side of Sokovia City. The rest of the city had sustained heavy damage, but the castle looked   
relatively unharmed, at least from the distance of the news cameras. 

Hillary stood back up and hugged Coulson. Coulson stroked her hair. The other S.H.I.E.L.D. staff members in the office suite started applauding and hugging and crying.

“Yoo-hoo, the Avengers!”

“Go Avengers!”

“We saved the day again!”

“So it’s not the end of the world today,” said Mitch calmly. “Awesome.”

Hillary broke off from hugging Coulson. “All right boss, looks like the party’s over,” she said. “What do you need me to do?”

“Why don’t you go back to the hotel and get some sleep?” said Coulson. 

“What about you? Haven’t you been up all night?”

“I’m going on about forty-eight hours without sleep. I’ll come with you. Mitch?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re coming too.”

“All righty then.”

“Agent Graves, you’re in charge. When you get hungry, order pizza on me.” The threesome left the office suite, still trying to make sense of what had happened.

As sleepy as they all were, they decided to go out for brunch. They stopped at an IHOP, which was playing the live news from Sokovia, as well as replaying the footage of the meteor, over and over again. Hillary tried not to be too reminded of the Chitauri invasion. 

And she ate breakfast she was interrupted by text messages from her friends and family, some demanding to know what was going on, others just as relieved as she was that the world had not ended. And Mark texted her back, finally.

Mark: Well, if you were trying to confess your feelings for me, thanks. I see that the Avengers just saved the day again. That was a close one. 

Hillary: I just wanted you to know in case I never saw you again. You know. I don’t love you yet. But I like you.

Mark: :) I like you too. Do you want to keep dating, and say that we’re in a relationship now?

Hillary: You know what, I do want to keep dating you. But I think it’s a little too soon to be saying we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.

Mark: Okay. That’s how I feel too. So what’s happening now?

Hillary: Well, I don’t know about the Avengers, but Mitch and Coulson and I have gone out for brunch. After that we’ll go to our hotel and crash.

She sent Mark a picture of them eating at the table, with the caption “Celebrating an Avengers Victory!”

Mark was done chatting with her after that, but she sent the picture to her parents as well. 

 

Hillary went to bed around noon feeling that there was some closure for the insanity of the last couple of days.

But when she got to work the next morning, she realized that she could not have been more mistaken. 

The fact that the Avengers had prevented a catastrophe was of minor importance to the press: a meteorite being carved out of an impoverished city and nearly wiping out the planet was a catastrophe in itself. The news commentators constantly repeated the number of casualties but ignored the considerably higher number of civilians that had been rescued by the helicarrier. The fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent the helicarrier and made the difference in saving the civilians was glossed over. The notion that dangerous robots had been attacking and killing innocent people and causing most of the damage was practically ignored. The Avengers were blamed for everything that had gone wrong.

“Not that they’re being directly blamed for creating the meteor,” said Hillary to Mitch. “But it’s almost like they did.”

“Well, did they?” asked Mitch. “Coulson said that -- “

“We don’t talk about that,” Hillary said.

As far as she knew, Ultron had made his own choices during his brief existence. The problem was, even with Ultron out of the picture it seemed like the Avengers were suffering   
all of the consequences. The damage reports from Sokovia as well as the ones from Korea and Africa were replayed over and over again, rewritten in a hundred different headlines. The Avengers were not heroes anymore.

Finding Hydra in Sokovia hadn’t resolved anything--it had only created an impossible situation. 

“Did you hear about the Maximoff twins?” Mitch asked her.

“No, what about them?”

“Well, Pietro, the brother, he got shot by Ultron when Ultron took the QuinJet. And then after he got thrown out by the Hulk Wanda went to finish him off. We thought she was dead, too, but then she turned up on the Helicarrier.”

“Wow. Well, that’s too bad about her brother.”

“No kidding.”

“I heard the Hulk disappeared. Have they found him yet?”

“No. Stark had left it on stealth mode before the battle.”

“Hm.” 

Mitch stood up. “I’m going to the break room. Want me to grab you anything?”

“Maybe some more of those fruit snacks,” said Hillary.

“Sure thing.”

Coulson had gone to the store last night to stock up on junk food for the office break room. There was a sort of celebratory mood around the office, among those few who were   
there--tempered, though, by the world’s negative response to Ultron.

A handful of the S.H.I.E.L.D. workers who had gone to Sokovia stayed behind to help with the relief efforts. Those who came back, however, were welcomed like heroes. They had a party in the Director’s suite on Friday, with pizza and soda pop for everyone. They were trying to make the best of it. If the rest of the world didn’t see them as heroes, then they would see each other that way. 

“Hey, boss, so where are the Avengers at now?” asked Hillary.

Coulson took a bite of cheese pizza. “I think most of them have gone back to Stark Tower for the time being. ‘Cept Barton’s gone back to be with his family.”

“Wait, his what? Family?”

Coulson suddenly looked terrified and covered his mouth. “Whoops, did I say that?”

“Wait, are we talking extended family,” said Mitch, “or family family?”

Coulson let his slice of pizza hang down on his knee. In an undertone, he answered, “Family in the sense of a wife and children. Yes.”

“WHAT?” said Hillary. 

Mitch pointed a finger at Hillary. “Wait a minute, you said that Barton and Romanoff were dating! What is this?”

“Just...old S.H.I.E.L.D. gossip,” said Hillary. She bit her lip awkwardly.

“Well, you know better than to gossip.”

“I do,” said Hillary, rubbing her stomach.

“This doesn’t go out to anyone, you hear?” said Coulson. “Barton arranged for his wife and children and residence to never be listed on the S.H.I.E.L.D. records. It was the safe   
house the Avengers went to.” 

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us,” said Mitch, looking at Hillary.

Hillary took a swig of grape soda. “Apparently the hawk has an actual nest.” 

But her mind was on Steve. He had gone back to New York with the others. Maybe now that everything was over, he would return his attention to finding Bucky. But in the wake of the disaster, though, everything had probably changed. Hillary wouldn’t have blamed Steve if he never called her like he said he would.


	7. On The Streets

He swore if he heard the word “Sokovia” mentioned one more time he would grab the nearest object and throw it across the room. He had been there and done terrible things there: the more he thought about it the more he was certain of it.

It was time to leave, he decided one morning a few days after the disaster in Sokovia. He shoved all of his possessions into his bag and walked out the front, stopping to say goodbye to Andrea Meens and giving her a hug. 

True, it would be harder for him to find food and a place to sleep on his own, but out in the open he could have an easier time staying away from people. And there wasn’t television.

It was a nice sunny day in early May. There wasn’t a lot of traffic on the street. But there was still a car parked across the street and a guy standing next to it who looked like he was supposed to be watching the area. Except he wasn’t doing his job at the moment: he was reading a newspaper.

Bucky jaywalked across the street and then strolled up the side of the road to stand next to the man.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” the man answered. He wore a faded red leather jacket and had a thick frame of facial hair on his chin. He was chewing a granola bar while reading an article titled, ‘Doomsday Narrowly Averted.’ But then the man jumped and looked up at Bucky. 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I’m supposed to be watching for you!” the man answered, panicked. He reached into the open window of his car. Bucky grabbed the man by the shirt collar and held him up against the tree.

“Now listen here, where I am and what I’m doing is none of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s business, got it?”

“But Hydra knows about this place too!” his victim whimpered.

“I don’t care,” Bucky growled. “Do what you have to to keep Hydra out of the way. But leave me and everybody else who’s staying here alone! You never saw me.”

The man nodded. Bucky dropped him. Then he turned around and walked away. He was sure the man was watching him walk away. He turned the corner of the street and walked into the nearby neighborhood. 

 

He still had most of the cash that the Tanners had given him. He spent as little of it as possible, buying cheap snacks from convenience stores to satisfy his hunger. When he was really hungry, two nights after he’d left, he got a sandwich. 

He’d been out of the homeless shelter a week, and the money was all dried up. He was back to rooting through dumpsters for his food. As for drink, well, all he had were half-finished bottles of soda and alcohol. Water was hard to come by, and everything else made him thirsty.

He didn’t mind playing the part of the dirty hobo. When people looked at him, that was all they saw, not Bucky and not the Winter Soldier. He could stay out of sight otherwise.

Andrea had given him the name and address of the law firm where Grace worked. It was in downtown Denver. He was in the suburbs somewhere in the heart of the metropolis to the south of downtown. He didn’t mind taking his time to go there. 

He wondered what Grace would think when she saw him again, all covered with filth and unshaven. But then again, that was how he had appeared when they first met. 

The old newspapers he came by in the streets all had the same headlines: ‘Avengers Nearly Drop Meteor on Sokovia’; ‘Hundreds dead in Avengers Battle’; ‘World Suffers Devastation from Superhuman Activity’; ‘ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE IN SOKOVIA’; ‘Government Officials Call for Superhero Regulation after Sokovia’. Avengers this, Sokovia that, disaster everywhere. That was just a sampling. He didn’t stop to read any of them.

If that Steve Rogers guy had anything to do with it, then he really was an idiot. That was the most Bucky would let himself think about it. 

Another week passed. He left his bag for a moment to go find some food and came back to find it was gone. He was stuck wearing a plaid button-up shirt that was kind of warm for the time of year, and he never took off his jacket. But thankfully he still had his wallet with his fake IDs--he always carried that in his pocket. 

He wasn’t sure how close he was to downtown now. He knew he was in the Denver city limits. He wished that big cities were more like malls or airports and posted maps so everyone could tell where they were. 

He sat down one morning with his back against a street sign along a busy road. He didn’t regret being out here on his own. Not in the slightest. 

Deciding he needed someplace quieter, he got up and walked to to an alley nearby. He leaned his back against a rugged brick wall. There wasn’t much pleasure to be had, he admitted, in going it alone. His feet were sore from walking everywhere and his back ached from lying on the ground.

Denver was an all right place to be homeless in, he figured. At least there were trees and plenty of shade. And the summer was supposed to be nicer compared to Mesa. It was a lot more humid here than in Arizona, but he didn’t care about that. 

But would he have traded it, though, to be with the people who had begged to let him take him in over the last year? Any decent person would have. But he wouldn’t. 

“You know, it’s not too late to change your mind. You don’t have to go.”

“Please, don’t go! It doesn’t have to be this way.” 

“I wish I could go with you and help you.”

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You’re my best friend.”

He wasn’t feeling up to sitting down to remember that last one. He got up and walked down the rest of the alleyway to try and get himself lost before he got lost in his mind again. 

 

It was a rainy day, and Jennifer Kyle had left her umbrella in the car. It hadn’t been raining when she had walked into the store and she hadn’t counted on the rain starting before she came out. Now she was seriously wishing she had thought to be more prepared. Jen had already spent a small fortune at the store and debated if it would be worth it to go back and buy another umbrella. It was very likely that she wouldn’t make it to her car without getting completely drenched.

Jen stood under the front entrance of the store, wondering how much longer she had the patience to wait for the downpour to pass. The rain was coming down so thickly that the sidewalks and pavement were covered with an inch of water. She heard someone to her left running towards her, a guy with long, dark hair wearing dirty clothes. She was wondering where he was going, but then he stopped at her side. 

“Do you need help, miss?” he asked her.

Jen wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Were you waiting for someone?” 

“No, I just need to get to my car.”

“Are you parked close?”

“No, I’m out in the middle of the parking lot.”

“Well, here, I’ll take you to it.” The man peeled off his soaked jacket and raised it over her head. She didn’t see how that would keep her dry. 

“Aaaaaand go!” he said to her. They began to walk, stepping quickly through the perpetual puddle over the parking lot, moving to one side to let an oncoming car get by them. Jen moved in the general direction of her car and he walked next to her. Her shoes were completely soaked and the bottoms of her pants were wet. But her hair and face were dry. 

“Here we are,” she said, pulling the key ring out of her purse and clicking the button. 

“All right,” said the man, following her with his improvised awning to the front door of her car. He opened it for her and she sat inside.

“Thank you so much,” she said.

“Not a problem,” he answered. He was putting on his jacket, but she noticed that there was something not quite right with his left arm--it was covered in metal.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m nobody,” he said. “Take care!” He ran across the parking lot and disappeared into the pouring rain. She heard a rumble of thunder overhead. 

Jen worked at a law firm in downtown Denver as a legal assistant. One of the other assistants there, Grace Porter, had once told her about a man she’d met at the homeless shelter where she used to volunteer. Grace had only gone on a date with him once and then he’d left, but she hadn’t forgotten the stranger. And at that moment Jen couldn’t help thinking of Grace’s missing lover. The odds of him being the same guy were astronomical. But she couldn’t help wondering.

 

A couple of days after the rainstorm, when everything had mostly dried up, Agent Kristie Reyman of S.H.I.E.L.D. went to lunch with her friend Agent Charlie Morris. They then took a walk through a shopping district to get back to their parking spot. She drank a tall smoothie while he talked about the latest reports on the aftermath of Ultron.

“And how about that contraband case in Seattle?” Kristie asked. “Someone selling parts of Ultron’s robots, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, apparently somebody got a hold of it in Seoul.”

“What were they doing over there? The Avengers, I mean?”

“The Avengers? Well, Ultron broke into the U-Gin Genetics lab and somehow got Helen Cho to make him...something. Some kind of an android out of vibranium and fake tissue.” 

“Did the Avengers destroy it?”

“No, they didn’t. No one’s really quite sure what happened, but the android ended up joining the fight against Ultron. He’s called Vision.”

“Just like the Maximoffs,” said Kristie. “It’s too bad we missed out on all the action in Sokovia.”

“Well, you’re just saying that because you were hired after New York. But trust me, there’ll be plenty for us to do later on for this. We won’t miss out.”

Kristie nodded as she took a long draw from her smoothie. Charlie sipped from the coffee cup in his hand.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re in the loop with this stuff.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s just stuff that Agent Orwin has heard from Coulson. Oh, and guess what else I heard?”

“What?” 

“Captain America’s forming a new Avengers team.”

“Really? Who’s on it?”

“Well, Wanda Maximoff and Vision, for a start,” said Charlie. “And then there’s Romanoff. Word on the street is they’re looking for two more people.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” said Kristie. 

“They won’t be working out of Stark Tower, though. They’re looking into building a new base somewhere.”

“Really? What, did Stark do something to upset him?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing personal,” said Charlie. (Charlie was not informed about the origins of Ultron, though what Kristie had said could or could not have been true). 

“Well, that’ll be great,” said Kristie. “I was kind of hoping he’d take some time off now that this was over.”

“Well, I think he considers Hydra enough of a threat that he doesn’t want to quit. They’ll be back and causing trouble before long.”

“Really? Well, he can do that. But anyway, speaking of Captain America, have we seen any sign of Bucky down at that homeless shelter?”

“Not for a while now,” said Charlie. “I guess he must have left. And it won’t be my turn to cover that spot again for three more days now.” 

“Hm, you should talk to Agent Butler. He got mugged by somebody down there. He says he wouldn’t go back down not even for a promotion.”

“But he did get his wallet back, though,” said Charlie. “And he didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. I wonder if that was what really happened.”

“Rough neighborhood,” said Kristie, finishing the last of her smoothie. She dropped the empty bottle into a trash can. 

As they moved down the street, they passed a deserted alleyway--or at least it appeared deserted. Kristie glanced down it--and then she stopped.

“What?” Charlie asked. Kristie had turned around.

“I thought I saw someone.”

“It’s probably not a very nice someone.”

“Shh!” Kristie held up a hand. “They know we’re here.”

“Maybe it’s an animal.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw a human.”

“What did he look like?

“I only got a glimpse--long shaggy hair under a baseball cap.” She then looked at Charlie.

“What?”

“You know whose description that fits, don’t you?” she said in a very quiet whisper.

“It could be anyone.”

“Shh!” They heard some boxes moving around. They saw the back of his head as he darted down the alleyway, zigzagging between dumpsters to keep out of sight.

“I want a closer look.”

“No, you could get hurt!” said Charlie, grabbing her shoulder before she could move away.

“No,” said Kristie, removing his arm. “He’s not dangerous. He hasn’t hurt anybody since leaving Hydra. Besides, I can look after myself.”

“The Winter Soldier, Reyman, are you sure?”

“Wait right here,” Kristie said as she walked down the alleyway. “I’ll be right back.”

She wasn’t carrying her gun, but though under other circumstances she would have preferred walking into a dangerous back alley armed, in this case it would work to her  
advantage. She hadn’t seen him for a few moments, so she started to run down the alley.

It was probably hopeless, she realized. He had probably disappeared before she had even started running after him. The Winter Soldier could do that--he was fast and silent.

And deadly.

She stopped running. She walked slowly, peering around the corners of buildings and piles of rubbish and dumpsters.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” said Kristie. “I just wanted to see if it was you.” He was probably some place where he couldn’t even hear her, but she thought she ought to say  
something. Or maybe she was mistaken and it wasn’t him. But it wouldn’t hurt to check.

She poked around for another minute, trying to think of places where a person could hide. She looked around herself constantly: he was probably watching her.

“I hope you’re not planning on hurting me,” she said. “But I guess I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I suppose if it is you, Bucky, then you won’t come out, and I’ll just leave you be.  
But I figured, you’re probably out on your own and alone. Maybe you’d like someone to talk to.”

“And then what?” a voice echoed around her.

It was Bucky Barnes all right, in all of his post-Hydra hobo glory. He pulled himself out of the dumpster behind her.

“Are you going to take me home and invite me to dinner with your parents? Or are you going to find some other ridiculous excuse to bring me out into the open?”

“I don’t even live here,” said Kristie. “I mean, not in Denver. I just have a small apartment and I’m lucky to have macaroni and cheese for Sunday dinner.”

“I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. paid better than that.”

“I’ve got two student loans and a credit card to pay off.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“My name’s Kristie,” she said. “Do you answer to Bucky or--”

“Bucky’s fine,” he told her, climbing out onto the lid of the dumpster. “But I guess it’s kind of you to ask if I’d like to be called something else. Frankly I don’t have any other  
name, except, well, I don’t need to be giving that away to you. So is Captain America still looking for me, after all the mess he caused with the Avengers?”

“No. He’s not,” said Kristie. “I guess he’s still worried about Hydra.”

Bucky nodded. “As he should be.”

“How are you doing? We thought you were at the homeless shelter.”

“Eh, I got tired of that pretty quickly. I get kind of restless. And I don’t like people.”

Kirstie decided to back away.

“Well, not...nice people like you, just people in general. And crowds. You know you look very nice today. And I’m surprised you risked your good looks coming into a back alley  
to find me.”

Kristie laughed. “Well, I was friends with Cap, once. I know what you means to him.” She pulled her wallet out of her jacket pocket. “Hm, I don’t have that much cash. Would two  
dollars--”

“No, keep it,” he said, waving his good hand at her. “I can take care of myself. Besides, money isn’t the key to happiness. If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t be living in the streets  
trying to find it. Give it to someone who really needs it.”

“Okay. I suppose I’ll leave now. But it was nice meeting you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, waving in farewell. She heard him jumping off the dumpster and running the other way.

When she returned, Charlie was pacing at the mouth of the alleyway, rubbing his arms nervously.

“Kristie! What happened down there?”

“I found the Winter Soldier,” she said. And that was all she would say on the subject. They passed a beggar sitting on the curb not far from the parking lot they were going to, and she gave him the two dollars.

 

Chris and Paul Jenkins had been having engine trouble with their car off and on all day. It was when they reached the outskirts of Denver that Chris decided to pull over and check it out.

“Dad, at what point do we call Triple-A?” asked Chris as he got out of the car and pulled the hood up.

“At the point when it looks like we can’t get this thing to go anywhere,” said Paul, getting out to help him.

Steam was coming out of the hood.

“Do you know what’s wrong with it?” asked Chris, looking around the inside.

“No, do I look like an auto mechanic to you?”

“Well, maybe we should find one.”

“Where?” 

Paul got out his smartphone. Though he was an older man, he found that newfangled technology was very useful. “Siri, find us an auto mechanic shop.”

“Locating...auto mechanic shop,” came the voice from his phone. While the results were loading, Chris lowered the hood and got in the driver’s seat again.

“I’m gonna see how far this runs,” said Chris. He put the car key in the ignition and turned. The engine grunted a little bit, and then it fell silent.

“Uh-oh,” said Chris.

“Well, the good news is, the nearest mechanic’s shop is about two and a half miles from here.”

Chris threw his head back. “Perfect.”

“Come on. Just give it a few tries and we can get this thing going long enough to get there,” said Paul.

Chris put his hand through his hair. Then he got out of the car, ran around to the hood, and propped it open again. “I just wish I knew what was wrong with this thing!”

“Excuse me,” said a voice behind the two men.

A scruffy-looking man about Chris’s age had appeared on the sidewalk they had pulled next to. He had his hands in his pockets and had cuts on his chin like he’d tried shaving  
recently with a dull razor. 

“I know a little bit about cars. Would you guys like some help?”

“How much do you know?” asked Paul.

“I lived in the breakroom of a repair garage for a while,” said the stranger. “The boss showed me a few tips.”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” said Chris. 

“Have a look,” said Paul.

The man had a glove over his left hand, and his right was very dirty. But he stuck both of them into the hood and examined the various parts. He sort of talked to himself as he  
went along, “No, not this...let’s see, what was that thing again...oh that looks off.” He stood up and explained what he had found wrong with the car’s engine.

“Is there anything we can do to fix that?” asked Chris.

“Well, I would definitely recommend getting to a mechanic’s shop as soon as you, can,” said the fellow, “but seeing as you can’t start your car right now--do you have any tools on  
you?”

“I think so,” said Chris. “Let me get that.” 

Chris went to the back of the car and popped the trunk open. He had to pull out an abundance of his and his father’s luggage as he searched for the tool box.

“I’m Paul Witmer, by the way,” said Paul to the stranger. “That’s my son Chris.”

“Nice to meet you,” said the stranger. 

“And what’s your name?”

“I’m nobody. I’ve been struggling with amnesia but I’m back out to make my way in the world.”

“Okay,” said Paul. “Are you heading anywhere?”

“No, I’m planning on staying in the area for a while, actually. And you?”

“We’re on our way to Utah to go on a hiking trip. Zion’s.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Chris reappeared with the toolkit. The stranger thanked him and opened it. He took off his jacket and baseball cap. He chose a wrench and a sprocket and then got back into the 

hood. After a few intense minutes of working, he emerged, wiping the tools and the glove over his left hand on his already tattered jeans. 

“Well, I think that did it,” said the man. He replaced the tools in the box. “Chris, go ahead and see if it’ll start.” The stranger put his jacket and hat back on--the jacket looked a  
little heavy for the warm summer weather, but to each his own, Paul thought.

Chris did as he was told. The car started normally.

“As good as new,” said Paul. “Amazing.”

“Well, no, actually,” said the stranger. “It should run normally for at least an hour or so. If you’re planning on taking it to get it fixed, I would suggest going now.” He gave Paul  
advice on what parts needed to be checked and which looked like they could use replacement or repair.

“So that’s it,” said the man.

“Well, thank you,” said Paul, shaking hands with him. He reached for his wallet.

“Oh no, you don’t have to pay me,” said the stranger, backing away.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I don’t want payment.”

“Do you need a ride?”

The man looked like he was tempted by the offer. “Erm, nah. I get around well enough on my own.”

“Okay then, thank you.”

“Take care.” The man waved goodbye from the sidewalk as Chris and Paul pulled away.


	8. The Attorneys' Assistants

Two weeks had passed since the disaster in Sokovia. But at the Standfer and Watson law firm in Denver, Colorado, nothing had really changed.

Not that anything had changed there since Grace Porter had been hired, anyway.

Grace really wondered why she had applied to work here in the first place. A family law firm seemed like it would be relevant experience for her, especially for someone who’d just gotten a Masters in Social Work and was looking to get a foot in the door. But as an assistant to the firm, she hadn’t been asked to be a consultant, she hadn’t been invited to meet with clients or go to court, and she wasn’t really able to apply her expertise. In fact, Mr. Standfer and Mr. Watson hardly seemed to think she was there.

Well, it paid the bills, in the meantime. And sooner or later, she hoped, her bosses would recognize she was there and get her more involved in their cases. Maybe she just needed to step up and remind them sometime.

It would have to be soon, though. Proofreading documents all day gave her a headache and made her sleepy. She had to drink a buttload of coffee to get through the day.

As for her love life, it was currently nonexistent. Since December, she had been in two relationships, if they could be called that at all. One guy she had dated in Februrary--hooking up just in time to not be alone for Valentine’s Day. But then after a month together, with little explanation or apology, he’d broken up with her and immediately taken up with another girl. And then two months ago, she had gone out with a guy for a week who kept asking to borrow money from her. When he’d taken over a hundred dollars from her, she realized that there was no way he would ever pay her back. She had dumped him, but for a while he kept texting her and calling her constantly until she finally blocked his number.

Her coworker Jennifer Kyle walked by. 

“Are you working on the Littson case?” she asked Grace.

“Yeah,” said Grace wearily.

Jen groaned. “These people are so petty. I wish they’d get over their issues and forget the whole thing.”

“Well not when there’s potentially thirty million dollars in real estate to be had from a lawsuit,” said Grace.

“I still think it’s pathetic,” said Jen. “Mark my words, this case will come to nothing.”

Grace nodded in agreement and returned her attention to her computer screen. Jen walked away. Mr. Standfer had taken on a case in which a divorced couple, the Littsons, were  
arguing over a land claim that Mr. Littson had gotten in the divorce. Furthermore, Mr. Littson had sold the land to a developer--PrimeTech Mineral Resources, Inc.--to have the land explored for potential mining claims as well as repurposed for housing and business developments. Mrs. Littson, who was a staunch environmentalist and Grace had no idea why she’d married her ex-husband in the first place, did not sit well with that at all. She had the feeling that Mr. Littson had just sold the land claim out of spite. Mr. Standfer was on the side of Mrs. Littson, hoping to persuade the courts that the industrial and commercial development of the property in question had not been a condition of the divorce settlement.

Furthermore, the government-backed legal team hired by Mrs. Littson was now being challenged by an activist group known as the Colorado Free Range Party, and they had good lawyers. REALLY good lawyers. The case had already dragged on for months and she would not be surprised if the two parties never reached a settlement before the end of the year. 

Grace broke her gaze away from the computer. It wasn’t even time for lunch break, but she already wanted to go home. She pulled her phone out of her desk drawer. There was a message there from her friend Triscia. As she was reading it, however, she heard someone in the office screaming followed by what was unmistakably a gunshot. The window opposite Grace’s desk exploded. Her coworker Lilian covered her head and ducked and the glass rained on top of her. 

Two people that Grace didn’t know came into the main office from different directions. From the right came a tall man with close-cropped, curly blond hair who pointed his gun at the window--it was smoking. 

“All right, get down!” he shouted at Grace and Lilian. “Everyone get down, on your knees, put your hands behind your head.” He pointed his gun at Grace. Grace fell down behind her desk. “Yes, like that--no, not behind your desk, move out where I can see you.”

She did as she was ordered.

The man on the left had brown hair streaked with gray but was also tall. He was dragging Jen by her arm and pointing a gun at her head.

“Everybody keep calm, he said. “Anybody else in there, Luther?”

“No,” said the blond man. “Who’s she?”

“One of the secretaries, no doubt.” He looked around the room. 

“So where’s Standfer?” asked Luther.

“I don’t know,” said the brown-haired man. “This one here said he’s gone for the day. She didn’t know what he was doing.”

“He was taking the day off to be with his family, I told you!” said Jen, squirming and trying to stamp on the man’s foot.

“Not so rough, you,” he said, pointing the gun at Jen. “This thing’s loaded.” He threw her onto the floor.

“There’s one more office back in there,” said the brown-haired man. “You look after these. I’ll go see if I can find anyone else.”

“You do that, Frank,” said Luther. Frank left. 

Grace tried to duck behind her desk to get her cell phone.

“Nuh-uh-uh!” said Luther, pointing his gun at her. “You don’t do that. The police are not intervening with this. Not today.” He then whipped to one side and caught Lilian trying to do the same thing. “Not you, either.” He pointed his gun at Jen, who lay disheveled on the floor. “And I don’t want any nonsense from you.”

There was a noise of a struggle coming from the hallway into the attorney’s offices. They all fell silent. Then Frank reappeared, carrying their coworker Don by his shirt collar.

“This one’s putting up a real fight,” he said.

“Well, I can fix that,” said Luther. Frank threw Don onto the floor, and Luther kicked him until he stopped struggling. 

“That’s better. Now, listen closely, all of you,” said Luther. “We’re going to make this really easy. You will give us the documents pertaining to the Littson vs. PrimeTech case--all  
of them, the paper ones, the digital ones--the digital ones we can take on a flash drive, got it?”

Grace looked across the room at her coworkers. Don was bleeding from his lip, but he licked it. Lilian mouthed “don’t do it” at Grace. Grace nodded back to her. Jen was staring  
at the floor.

Frank went to the main door of the office suite. He pulled it shut and barricated it.

“Now which one of you is Mr. Standfer’s secretary? Is it you?” said Frank, pointing his gun at Jen. Jen nodded, her eyes wide and terrified.

“I don’t wanna see any crying. I don’t want you crying, got it? I need you to go into your boss’s office, put all of his files onto a hard drive for me. Got it?”

Jen was breathing heavily. “No,” she said.

“No?” said Frank.

“I won’t do it.” 

“I think you’re not understanding me here,” said Frank. “ I’m pointing a gun at your head. I can shoot you whenever I want.”

“No,” she repeated.

Frank swore and kicked her. Jen tried to grab his leg but then he kicked her off.

“Don’t try that again,” said Frank. “You mess with me again, and I’ll shoot you.” Frank turned around and looked at Grace.

“How about you, sweetheart? How long have you been working here?”

“A few m-m-m-months,” she answered. 

“Do you like working here?”

Grace nodded eagerly.

“Good. I’ll make this simple. You help me out, you can keep your job. I won’t hurt Mr. Standfer, or anyone else in here. All you’ve gotta do is give me a flash drive with the  
Littson case files on it. It’s that simple.”

Grace swallowed. “No.”

Frank stepped up to her. He pointed the gun in her face. “I said do it.”

“No, I won’t,” she said.

“You will hand over all of the docs pertaining to the case. This instant.”

She looked up at Frank, wondering if she could entirely forget that he was pointing a gun at her. 

“I said hand them over now!”

“I won’t,” said Grace.

In the glass-covered corner, Lilian stirred.

“What are you doing?” said Luther, pointing his gun at her. 

“N-n-nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me. I saw you reaching for your purse. Are you trying to call for somebody?” Luther pointed his gun at the other people in the room in turn. Frank stepped to  
Grace’s side and kept the end of his on her skull. “Now let me make something clear to you that I think we have a little trouble understanding. Don’t try to get out your phones to call for help, because we won’t let you. Do not call the police. Do not call the authorities. Do not call S.H.I.E.L.D. or anyone else you can think of who could save your skins. We’re only threatening you because we need you to cooperate. And until one of you gives us the records of the Littson case, we’re not leaving. I don’t know about you guys, but we haven’t got all day.” 

Lilian was crying. Don just laid on the ground and was motionless.

Jen cast a glance at Grace. “Who’s S.H.I.E.L.D.?” she mouthed.

Grace knew the answer to that question, but unfortunately now was a bad time to explain. 

 

It took a lot of effort for him to come out in public and interact with people. It really did. And today would just be worse. 

After wandering the streets of downtown Denver for a few days and asking a few people for directions, he finally came to the block that the law office of Standfer and Watson was supposed to be at. He wasn’t looking forward to approaching Grace like this. It would be the middle of her work day, and there would be other people there watching, who at the very least would politely ask him to leave. He wasn’t ready. He’d kept all of his feelings for her bottled up inside of him for the last eight months and he didn’t know how to express them. The advice that Hillary and the Tanners had given him was inadequate to address his situation or his confusion. He felt lonelier, more afraid and confused than ever. But he hoped that maybe at the end of all this that Grace would be willing to understand him.

1476...1477...he read the street numbers as he walked down the busy street . 1478. There it was. The fancy plaque on the outside read that the firm was in Suite Number 2. Well, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to walk right in the front door--not for someone as shabbily dressed as he was. 

There was a gap between 1478 and the building next to it. He went down it, feeling a little more comfortable in the back alley than in broad daylight. Behind the building, though, he saw that the door to the emergency stairwell was open. That wasn’t normal, was it? And there was glass on the ground which had apparently fallen from a second  
story window that had been broken open--from the look of it, by a bullet.

Then he heard a sound he’d know anywhere--a gunshot. It was followed by several screams, all of which were female.

Grace.

Today, of all the days she could have gotten in trouble at work, it had to be the day when he showed up. And he wasn’t even the cause of it.

He didn’t want anything to do with it. But he had to at least make sure she was all right.

“I think I’ve had enough.”

Frank nodded at Luther. Luther pulled some things out of his jacket pocket--a cigarette lighter and a small container of lighter fluid.

Grace and Lilian both gasped, but it really wasn’t a surprise at that point: Jen was curled up on the floor, clutching a bullet wound in her stomach. 

Don, who had been lying down pretending to be too weak to move, or who may have actually been too weak to move, suddenly sprang to life. He went for the fire utensils in Luther’s hands. Frank attacked him from behind, pushing him down and then kicking him.

“You want a shot in the stomach, too, huh?” asked Frank.

Don looked up at him like he gladly would have taken it. 

Luther went to the hallway leading to Mr. Standfer’s office. A half a minute later, Grace could smell the smoke, and when he emerged she saw the flames behind him.

“Did you take care of the smoke alarm?” asked Frank.

“Oh, right,” said Luther. He pointed his gun at the smoke alarm in the hallway and shot it. “That should do it.”

“Now, I think we’ll just leave you all here,” said Frank. “Your boss told the courts that Mr. Littson’s property was too beautiful to be consumed by noise and smoke. We’ll see what  
he thinks of that statement when he sees what we’ve done to his office--and to you ladies.”

Frank pulled back the safety on his gun. It was anyone’s guess who was going to be shot first.

The front door of the office suite came flying off of its hinges with a sound of breaking wood. Grace ducked behind her desk and covered her eyes. She heard Jen and Lilian 

screaming and Don moving to get out of the way. Two gunshots went off at once, and then she heard the two men screaming. Grace poked her head around her desk to see what 

was happening.

In the rising smoke, it was hard to see who it was at first. He was fighting Frank and Luther, punching and kicking like he was born doing it. Frank and Luther had both lost their  
weapons. Luther grabbed a glass vase from Lilian’s desk to smash it on the interloper’s head--it got broken on him instead. Frank then picked up the office telephone from  
Grace’s desk and tried to use it as a bludgeon. Instead he got tangled in the cords. 

The stranger wore ragged, dirty clothes. But Grace thought she recognized the jacket. And then she got a good look at his face.

She wanted to faint right then and there. But she kept breathing. 

“Bucky?”

He was too busy fighting to make eye contact with her. But he grabbed Frank by the jacket collar and heaved him through the broken window. Frank screamed on the way down. 

He then turned to Luther. Luther tried ducking into a corner, but Bucky was too fast for him. He grabbed him by the arms and also threw him out the window. 

He then turned to the people in the office. “Everyone get out here. Move!” He looked at Lilian. “You! Call the police!” And then he turned to Grace.

It was like everything in the world had stopped. 

Lilian and Don helped pick Jen off of the floor and carried her out of the room.

Grace came out slowly from behind her desk. Her mouth was open. She stared at him.

He looked like he was struggling to find the right words. And she didn’t blame him.

She stood up, slowly.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Are you sure?”

Grace only nodded. She wasn’t even sure she should even let herself touch him, but she fell forward and embraced him. His arms were open to her.

But the embrace didn’t last for long.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” said Bucky. He took Grace by the arm and led her out of the damaged office suite.

He looked like he was about to turn down the hall towards the emergency stairwell, but then they heard the sirens outside.

“There’s a staircase this way,” she said.

“Let’s take that.”

Without even asking her, he picked her up and carried her down the hall to the front lobby and down the grand staircase of the small office building. The smoke had followed  
them out of the room and fire alarms elsewhere were going off. The workers from the other office suites were filing out. No one really paid them any attention. There was an ambulance and several other emergency vehicles already parked on the street. 

He dropped her on the sidewalk--gently, letting her get to her feet.

“Bucky. Where have you been?” she asked him.

“I haven’t got time to explain now,” he told her. He held his right hand up to her cheek. “Oh, Grace. How I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she said. But she hadn’t been planning on saying that.

“Look--there’ll be another time to catch up. But I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Grace wanted to ask him why he couldn’t stay longer, but she only nodded.

“Get whatever help you need. Make sure your friends are all right. And--” He didn’t know what else to say. He leaned his head down and kissed her.

Grace was just starting to enjoy the kiss when he broke off. He then pushed her along the street. “I’ve got someone here who needs help! A doctor, a nurse, anyone!” he  
shouted. He pushed her into the waiting arms of two paramedics.

“No, Bucky, wait!” She turned around. But he was already running down the street, away from her.


	9. Agent Reyman

Kristie Reyman was not looking forward to her assignment.

Her and Agent Orwin, the Director of the S.H.I.E.L.D. office in Denver, were on their way to the police station to meet with Grace Porter, an employee at the law firm that had been attacked by the Free Range Party. This had been important enough for Orwin to handle this personally and leave off dealing with the local press about the fallout from Sokovia. And Kristie, as he put it, needed experience in these kinds of cases.

“Hydra isn’t the only organization of crazy people out there,” he said to her as he drove through the streets of downtown Denver.

“Yes, I know,” said Kristie. “I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. long enough before Hydra came up to handle those other cases.”

“I knew that,” said Orwin. He was a rotund man with salty gray hair and a mustache. 

“Yes, well may I also remind you that the Free Range Party has also been known to work with Hydra on occasion.”

“Well, yes, but that’s just been their Arizona branch,” said Orwin. “The Colorado Free Range Party is usually better behaved than this. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

There was a pause. Then Kristie asked, “Hey, boss, have they found out where Frank Burtris went off to yet?”

“No they haven’t,” said Orwin. “What puzzles me though is how he was able to walk away from falling out of a two-story window. He didn’t even land on anything.”

“That I couldn’t tell you,” said Kristie. “Not unless the Free Range Party is suddenly interested in super-soldier stuff.”

“Which I can tell you they’re not.”

“Well we don’t know that. It’s just a theory.”

Nobody seemed to know what had happened in that little office the other day. The office suite of the law firm was a charred shell before the fire department had arrived. It was a miracle that it hadn’t spread to the other parts of the building, and that no one had been killed. But one of their suspects was in the hospital and the other had run away. The police had nothing else to go on. Knowing S.H.I.E.L.D.’s history with the Free Range Party, local law enforcement had called them in to investigate. 

Grace Porter was the first of her coworkers to be brought in for questioning that afternoon. She had been treated for shock but was otherwise uninjured. They would interview Lilian Sweet and Don Ubersen tomorrow. Jennifer Kyle was still in the hospital. 

 

“Your full name?”

“Grace Rochelle Porter.”

“Date of Birth?”

“May 9, 199_.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Occupation?”

“Assistant at Standfer and Watson Attorneys at Law.”

Kristie asked for Grace’s address and contact information. Grace was about the same age as Kristie, with light brown hair and brown-green hazel eyes. She was dressed in a red business skirt and blazer and wore her hair in a ponytail decorated with a gold clip--a little fancy for an interrogation. She kept her hands in her lap as Kristie took notes.

“So tell us about Tuesday,” said Agent Orwin. “Was it a normal day at the office, up until the attack happened?”

“Yes, it was,” said Grace, nodding quietly.

“Did you notice anything unusual about your bosses or coworkers prior to the event?”

“No.”

“When did it start?”

“About one p.m. I hadn’t gone for a lunch break yet. Jen was just coming back from hers. I was just checking my phone when the first shot went off. The Luther guy walked in from the right and then Frank came in from the left. He was dragging Jen with him. She’d just gone back into Mr. Standfer’s office--she works in there when he’s not here.”

Agent Orwin nodded.

“Did the attackers know that Mr. Standfer was gone for the day?” asked Kristie,

“I don’t think so. They kept asking where he was.”

“And Mr. Watson wasn’t there either,” said Orwin.

“Did the attackers ever mention where they were from or who they were working for?” said Kristie.

Grace shook her head. “Not that I recall. Mind if I ask if you know that?”

“Frank Burtris and Luther Lance were working on behalf of the Colorado Free Range Party.”

“Oh, well, that’s not surprising,” Grace commented quietly. “But I’ve never heard of the Colorado branch resorting to acts of violence. I thought it was just in the other states.”

“Well, as of right now,” said Agent Orwin, “the Free Range Party has only been convicted of crimes in three other states. However, we believe that considering the Colorado   
branch’s involvement in the Littford case they had sufficient motivation to escalate their involvement.”

Grace nodded. “It’s not surprising. The case has been dragging on for months.”

“Yeah, I can see why they wanted to get things done,” said Kristie. 

“So tell us what happened when Luther entered.”

“Well, let me think. I’m trying to remember exactly. He shot the window, first, and then Lilian got glass her eyes and jumped away from the window. But then he came in pointing   
the gun and started shouting at us.”

Kristie and Orwin questioned Grace closely, asking her for details about the actions and the conversation of the two attackers. They were very intrigued when Grace mentioned   
that Frank and Luther had demanded the files on the Littford case handed over. Other than that they didn’t get very many details.

“So which of them shot Jennifer?”

“It was Frank. He’d threatened her earlier, when she tried to fight back. And he was the one keeping her pinned to the floor. After I refused to give them the files, they turned on   
Lilian. Luther grilled her for information about the case. He’d ask questions, but she wouldn’t answer. Then he told her that he was going to shoot her if she didn’t talk to him by the count of ten. He got down to three when Jen jumped from where she was sitting. She tried wrestling Luther to the ground but he knocked her back down to the floor. And so Frank shot her to keep her from getting back up.” Grace shook her head, her mouth hanging open. “I seriously thought he had killed her.”

“So what happened after Jennifer got shot?” asked Orwin.

Grace was quiet for a moment. When she opened her mouth, she spoke slowly. “Lilian ran over to see what she could do about the bullet wound. Frank told her to stay where she   
was alone but Luther talked back to him. He said...it wasn’t going to make a difference.”

“What wasn’t going to make a difference?”

“Lilian helping her, I guess. But anyway, after that, Luther set fire to the office hallway. Don--well, he had been lying prostrate on the ground the entire time. I thought he’d been knocked out, but I guess he was faking the entire time, because he suddenly got up and tried to stop Luther from setting fire to the place. But Frank got him down again. Luther shot a bullet into the fire alarm to break it. And they were going to leave us there...trap us inside of there, to die.” Grace’s eyes widened as though she suddenly realized how close she had been to death.

“Yes, but then you got out,” said Kristie. “How did you get out?”

Grace looked at her lap. She took a breath as though she were about to speak and then didn’t. She licked her lips and glanced up at Kristie and Orwin once or twice before   
looking away again, down at the floor.

“It’s a lot to explain,” she said finally. “But...he came.”

“Who came?” asked Kristie.

“I didn’t know who it was at first. But he attacked Frank and Luther and threw their weapons on the ground. He threw both of them out the window. They weren’t even a match for him….” Grace trailed off.

“They weren’t a match for who, Miss Porter?”

Grace looked up at the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and gave them a wan smile. “Last year, when I worked at the Arms of Mercy Community Action Center, there was a guy who came to   
stay there. The only name he went by was Bucky.”

Kristie and Orwin looked at each other. Kristie’s jaw dropped.

“Bucky Barnes?”

Grace nodded. “Captain America came to visit the homeless shelter in December--after Bucky had left. He told us about Bucky’s past. I never blamed him...for not wanting me to   
help him. I guess it’s a good thing, because I didn’t have an excuse.”

“But...Tuesday?” said Kristie. “He was there? It was him?”

“It was.”

“Did you talk to him after the fight was over?” asked Orwin. “I mean, he obviously knew you--”

“I don’t know why he was there,” said Grace, getting defensive. “I guess it was just one of those things. But we did talk. A little. He asked if I was okay. He helped me outside--he carried me all the way to the curb. And he made sure that I got seen by the paramedics--I wasn’t hurt or anything, but just...he said he didn’t have time to explain.” Grace looked off to one side. 

Kristie tried to read her expression. It may have been longing in her eyes. Or regret. 

“And then he left,” said Grace. 

“That was it?” said Kristie. “He didn’t stop to catch up or anything? I mean, there must have been a reason he was there. It may have been to see you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was just a coincidence, Agent,” Orwin chided her. “Right place at the right time--that sort of thing.”

“Grace, is that all he said to you?”

“Yes,” said Grace. “He didn’t tell me anything about where he’d been or what he’d been up to.

“Grace, were you two close? At the shelter?” Kristie spoke as gently as possible.

Grace only shook her head. “That’s all that happened,” she said. “He left me on the curb. I don’t have anything else to tell you.” 

Kristie looked at her boss.

“Well, thank you, Miss Porter, for your time,” said Agent Orwin. The three of them rose to their feet. Orwin shook hands with Grace.

“Goodbye, Grace,” said Kristie.

Grace only gave Kristie a passing glance as she stepped out of the room.

 

When Agent Orwin and Kristie got back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office, they filled in their anxious coworkers on everything. Including the fact that the Winter Soldier had been responsible for saving the day on Tuesday. Everyone was reasonably shocked--except for Agent Butler, for some reason, who hid behind his newspaper and sipped his coffee. But no one paid him much attention.

“Well, it’s not surprising, really,” said Charlie. “I mean, no one else in there could have thrown those two guys out the window.”

“No kidding,” said Agent Monica Rowell. “But clearly, he’s been in Denver before, and now he’s back. Why didn’t anybody see him at the homeless shelter?”

Kristie glanced back at Agent Butler, but all she could see were the latest headlines about the ongoing crisis in Sokovia. 

“Maybe he didn’t go there.”

“There’s a connection there,” Kristie spoke up. “Grace said she used to work at that homeless shelter, and she knew him.”

“So he was stalking her?” asked Agent Larry Brown.

“Yes. And I think,” said Kristie, feeling a lot less bold than she wanted to be to be making this kind of statement, “he’s in love with her.”

Agent Brown laughed.

“No,” said Charlie. “He just...he knew her from before and he wanted to see how she was doing.”

“Because he cares about her,” said Kristie. “And she likes him back. Or did like him back. Or maybe it’s complicated.”

Agent Rowell snorted. “Well, that’s a sick love interest if I’ve ever heard of one.”

Agent Orwin had been in his office, but then he stuck his head out and called for Kristie. Kristie excused herself from the group. Orwin wanted to discuss with her a change in plan for questioning the other employees at the law firm--specifically to ask them more questions about the sudden appearance of the Winter Soldier. 

The next day they talked to Lilian and Don. They both corroborated Grace’s account of the attack. But neither of them could explain the mysterious stranger who had come to   
their rescue. Don had eagerly given them details of Bucky’s fight with Frank and Luther. Lilian said she thought she had seen Grace kissing someone out on the street.

But neither of them had ever heard Grace so much as talk about him. She had a master’s degree in Social Work and a sucky love life. That was it.

They talked to Jennifer Kyle the following Monday--she came for the interview in a wheelchair. She had been in too much pain from her injury to really notice when Bucky had appeared--she had known he was there and that he was beating up Frank and Luther and had told everyone else to leave. Jen did say that she had seen Bucky earlier in the month--he had helped her out to her car in the rain. 

And Grace had told her once, on a lunch date, about the man from the homeless shelter. 

“She didn’t give me the name, of course,” said Jen. “But she seemed pretty upset about it. Which is weird, because she’s been with two other guys since then and she got over them pretty quickly. I thought maybe it was him, when I saw him that one time.”

“Did you recognize him when he came to the office on Tuesday?” asked Orwin, a lot less skeptical about Bucky’s attachment to Grace.

“No, I didn’t. But now that I think about it, though, it was him. His voice sounded familiar. But, anyway.”

Jen left soon after.

But Kristie still had plenty of questions, and all of them were for Grace. There was so much that Kristie had wanted to ask her at their meeting on Thursday. Had she known Bucky   
was in the area? Had he really not told her anything at all during their brief reunion last Tuesday? And what had happened between them the last time he had been in Denver?

According to Agent Orwin, however, none of these concerns were grounds for them to call Grace back in for a second round of questioning.

Orwin called Director Coulson a week after the attack had occurred and told them what he had learned. Coulson told him that he would be coming out for a personal visit within   
another week. And Agent Hillary Tanner was coming with him.

Kristie hadn’t seen Hillary since right before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. They hadn’t texted for that long, either.

Kristie: Hey, Hillary, it’s Kristie! Long time no see! I heard you’re coming to town next week.

Hillary: Yep. I read you guys’ reports. That’s intense, what happened.

Kristie: but you’ve dealt with the Free Range Party in Arizona before, haven’t you?

Hillary: Yes I have. It sounds like the same kind of scumbags. But have you guys seriously not found Frank yet?

Kristie: Nope. 

Hillary: I don’t understand it, though. Luther had a broken back. But Frank crawled away just fine? That shouldn’t happen.

Kristie: IDK I’ve fallen from higher buildings and come out unscathed.

Hillary: But that shouldn’t be possible if the Winter Soldier was throwing you out in the first place.

Kristie: Beats me. So what else is new?

Hillary: Just the press turning Sokovia into a worse disaster than it actually was--which, frankly, I don’t know how that’s possible. And we’re helping the Avengers set up a new   
base. How are you doing?

Kristie: I’m fine. I’m just really stressed out right now from work. Between Sokovia and the Free Range Party it’s been a mess.

Hillary: I hear ya. As if we didn’t have enough problems on our plate. 

Kristie: How are things back in DC?

Hillary: well, to put it simply, EVERYONE is stressed out right now. Coulson doesn’t show it but I think he’s had it too. I think he’s looking forward to coming out to Denver, actually.

Kristie: cool.

Hillary: Question, tho: you did actually interview Grace?

Kristie: Yes. What about her?

Hillary: I’ll tell you about it when I get there. But her last name is Porter, right?

Kristie: Yes. Any reason for checking that?

Hillary: Put that on the list of things I need to explain to you.


	10. Cross Your Mind

Standfer and Watson Attorneys moved their office, including their salvaged computers that had the files intact--into an empty downstairs suite in the same building. Grace was back at work within a week. 

No one was sure what would happen to the Littson case now, since the Free Range Party had clearly decided to not wait for the courts to decide what would happen to the property in question. But Standfer encouraged his employees to continue to work on it as though nothing had happened. Something would end up in court sooner or later.

“So, his name is Bucky?” Jen asked Grace two days after they had resumed work. She was using a wheelchair but was otherwise still going about her work as though nothing had happened.

“Who told you that?” Grace said, looking at her.

“Those guys that interviewed us. So have you seen him since what happened?”

“No,” Grace answered. It should have been obvious. If he hadn’t come back to see her, then it wasn’t any of Jen’s business.

“What really happened between you two? You said he just left one morning.”

“Shut up,” Grace snapped.

“Oh.” Jen backed away and smacked her lip. “Well, I can guess. You’re not exactly happy you saw him last week, are you?”

“I said that’s enough,” said Grace. 

“Forget I said anything,” said Jen, and she went away.

 

Grace apologized for her rude behavior later, but she got no such apology from Jen. Jen had seemed like a nice enough person when she’d started working with her, but now, Grace realized, she was selfish and catty. 

This really was the last straw for her. She couldn’t keep working for Mr. Standfer in an environment like this. Not when he was already embroiled in the petty crusades of a far-right group.

And not when Bucky knew where she worked. 

It simply wasn’t fair, she thought. She had told herself that they weren’t meant to be together. She had tried her best to move on and forget about him, she really had. But now   
that she had seen him again, it was like he hadn’t left at all. She still cared about him. A lot.

And it was obvious just how much she cared about her. Even when she had convinced herself that he had probably forgotten about her.

And then he’d had the nerve to kiss her, on top of everything else. And then leave. Again. So he liked her, but he didn’t want to be with her, was that it? What was wrong with him?

Well, according to Captain America, everything.

 

She normally hated country music, but tonight the twangy songs about broken hearts and lost love matched her mood way too well. It had been a frustrating week at work. Coming to the smoke-filled inner city bar was the perfect way to end it. It was unusually uncrowded for a Friday night, however, but this establishment wasn’t frequented by the people her age anyway. The television played the news from Sokovia on mute, the bright images contrasting with the dim-lit interior. No one was watching it, but Grace couldn’t help wondering if Captain America had been there--how much of the damage he had caused.

She sat at the bar and stared at the grain of the wood, and the other customers left her alone. The bartender didn’t question when she kept asking for shots of whiskey. She’d only meant to have two or three. But that hadn’t been enough.

She was trying not to let herself think of Bucky. But for some reason she couldn’t make herself forget. Was she just that angry with him?

If he’s in town, why doesn’t he just come over and find me? she thought bitterly. She glanced over her shoulder at the door and glared at it, demanding him to appear. But he didn’t. Because he wouldn’t have money for booze in the first place.

A song started to play on the radio, “Need You Now” by Lady Antebellum. It had been popular when it first came out five years ago so she recognized it. 

But it irked her because the lyrics described her situation exactly--well, except Bucky didn’t have a phone. Or did he? He knew where she worked, did he have her phone number, too? Was he stalking her? She didn’t know what he wanted from her.

It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now.  
Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now.  
And I don't know how I can do without.  
I just need you now.

She slammed her shot glass on the bar and got up to leave. She was done.

Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

She went out to where her car was parked on the street, walking around to the far side of her vehicle to the driver’s seat. 

After five minutes of fumbling with her keys, she realized she would not be able to drive herself home. 

She groaned and crumpled to the pavement. She leaned her back against her car tie and sobbed, muttering the lyrics of “Need You Now.”

Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, she had no idea how much time had passed. A car parallel-parked in the spot in front of her own vehicle. Then she heard someone calling her name.

“Grace?”

She looked up. It was her friend Trischia. 

“What are you doing here?” asked Trischia.

Grace sniffed. “Nothin’.”

“Grace, you’re out of it,” said Trischia, walking around the front of Grace’s car. 

“No, I’m fine, go away,” said Grace, but she didn’t move away from Trischa.

“Honey, are you drunk?”

Grace was crying, and in between her sobs she could barely squeeze out a “Yes.”

“How long you been here?”

“Just a little while.”

“Here, can I take you home?”

“No, I don’t need your help,” said Grace.

“Come here,” said Trischia. She raised Grace by her arm and took her over to the passenger’s side of the car. “Wait right here.”

Grace was too tired and confused to do anything but what she was told. Trischia went up to her friends’ car and told them she had to go take Grace home. 

“Come on, girl, give me your keys.” Grace handed over her car keys with resignation. Trischia unlocked the car and they got inside.

Grace stopped crying while they were driving. Trischia didn’t say anything to her but just smiled gently at her the whole way.

When they got to Grace’s apartment, Trischia took her keys and let them inside. She turned on the living room light. And Grace collapsed on the couch. Trischia brought her some tissues. 

“Girl, is this about what happened at the office last week?”

Grace sniffed again. “No. But yes.”

“I thought you told me what had happened.”

“I didn’t,” she answered. “I didn’t tell you, who it was who came and got us out?”

“No. Who did it?”

“It was Bucky.”

Trischia swore. “He came back?”

“He came back. For me.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know.” Grace grabbed one of the couch cushions and sobbed onto it.

Trischia patted Grace’s back. “And have you seen him since then?”

“No. He ran off again like the jerk he is.”

“Honey, you know he’s not a jerk. He’s just a homeless guy with a lot of problems.” 

“Blah blah blah, that’s what everybody likes to say about him. Including Captain America. Did you know he was friends with Captain America?”

“No. What’s that got to do with anything? ”

Grace started crying again.

Trischia let her keep crying for a few minutes. “Honey, I thought you got over it.” 

“I thought I did too!” Grace yelled. “Everything was going fine...and then he showed up. Why couldn’t he just leave me once and be over with it?”

Trischia was quiet for a little longer. But when she opened her mouth, what she said wasn’t what Grace wanted to hear. 

“Honey,” said Trischia, “I think he cares about you.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Grace, it’s okay. He can’t be there for you all the time. He’s still got his own life to figure out.”

“I’ve got my own life to figure out! I don’t need to be in his!”

“Honey, if he came back for you, I think he’s a lot less of a jerk than you’ve been saying he is for the last six months. And plus, he saved your life, and your coworkers.”

“So what am I supposed to do about it, then?” asked Grace. 

Trischia paused. And then she said, “Just be patient. Wait for him. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

“But, what am I supposed to do when he shows up?”

“You’ll figure that out.”

“You don’t understand, I HAD it figured out.”

“Well, maybe you need to reconsider. But it’s up to you.”

Trischia stayed until Grace had stopped crying. When Grace was a little calmer, she also complained about her coworkers and her job but didn’t mention Bucky any more. She was   
done talking about him. She was done with him period. For good this time.


	11. The Hunted

Bucky did want to go back and see Grace. But the police kept a close watch on the street where her office was located. He didn’t want them to see him, in case he aroused unwanted attention. So he stayed in the neighborhood, living off the scraps of the downtown restaurants and sleeping in the back alleys. It wasn’t anything different from what he normally did.

He thought maybe the office had closed permanently and the law firm had gone somewhere else. But he still watched for her, every day, even if he never saw her.

But one day, two weeks after the accident, he was near that street again when he saw someone that he really didn’t want to see.

He remembered the person from his days as the Winter Soldier as one of the people who had tortured him--kept him sedated and clean and looked after his equipment, and also  
run the brainwashing device. 

He wondered if it was just a coincidence, that this person was out here in the middle of Denver, going for a stroll in front of the shops. Hydra as it had been was no more, so perhaps he had a different job now, right? Just like the Winter Soldier himself.

But watching from the alley behind the building where Grace worked, he saw the man passing by. The man appeared to be looking for something. For someone. The way he held his hands in his jacket pockets he was carrying something inside there. 

Bucky peeked out at just the wrong moment for a closer look. The man was looking in his direction. They made eye contact.

He didn’t wait to find out if the man had recognized him. He ran down the alley to the lot behind it. He thought he heard footsteps, followed by someone shouting, “Hey, you!” 

But Bucky didn’t slow down or even look behind him. He jumped over the fence and continued running.

Down another nearby street, he stopped on the corner to catch his breath. But then he looked up and realized that he should have continued running.

There was another one of his old handlers waiting on a street corner under a store awning. 

He doubled back the way he came and then turned down a side street. He kept running for another three blocks.

Coming to another street, he stopped again. Then he heard the screeching of car tires. He turned and saw a car coming around the corner, heading his direction.

Why, why must he keep stopping? he asked himself. He ran as far as he could, cutting sideways across the middle of several blocks, running across a few busy streets and maybe  
causing an accident or two. 

But just when he thought he’d gone far enough, he was walking up to another street when he saw a different car slowing down and pulling over next to him. The window rolled  
down, and he had a glimpse of another face from his past.

He wasn’t about to stop and fight. There were at least three of them, maybe four. Maybe more. And who knew what resources or weapons they had?

He ran until he was several miles away from the city center. He came to a truck stop close to the freeway and saw a man crossing the parking lot to enter his truck cab.

He walked up to the man and asked for a lift. The man was going to Colorado Springs--not terribly far, but it would be far enough, he hoped, to lose Hydra.

Grace would have to wait. There would be another time for that.

 

Hillary finally had the chance to Facebook stalk Grace Porter. She seemed like a typical woman of the world. Educated, liberal, maybe not the biggest sense of humor. She was a  
huge advocate for charities supporting the homeless and disadvantaged women and children. And she was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made Hillary understand why Bucky was attracted to her.

Grace’s Facebook settings were loose enough that Hillary could read her timeline--which at the moment wasn’t very busy. She would have to keep an eye on it.

“But there’s still a lot we don’t know, Boss,” said Hillary when they landed at the Denver airport two weeks after the FRP attack. “I mean, they only asked Grace for info about the attack. And apparently they didn’t interact much beyond him walking out of the building with her. There’s a lot that could have happened. And it’s been two weeks now. Maybe he’s seen her again.” Of course there had been nothing on Grace’s Facebook to indicate that.

“Well, it’s likely,” said Coulson, “but the problem is I don’t see Grace being willing to talk to us about that.”

“I know,” said Hillary. “Sometimes it’s really hard not to abuse S.H.I.E.L.D. privileges to satisfy your curiosity.”

“Trust me, it’s better not to know sometimes.”

They got a rental car and drove out to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Denver office. 

“My parents keep asking if I’ve heard anything about him.”

“Well, I don’t know about recent events, but can tell your folks that it could be a long time before we hear from him again.”

“It’s only been about two months, actually, since he left us. Don’t you think this is pretty soon?”

“I think he’s taking his time, if all of this is about that girl.”

“Well, some people need it,” said Hillary. “And him especially.”

Coulson nodded at her slightly and smiled. 

 

At the Denver S.H.I.E.L.D. office, they were greeted but Agent Orwin and Kristie. Orwin introduced Coulson to the other agents stationed there, but Hillary spent some time catching up with Kristie.

“How long has it been? A year since I last saw you?” said Kristie.

“Longer,” said Hillary. “I regret that I haven’t seen you sooner since I started working for Coulson. How have you been?”

“Fine, I guess,” said Kristie. “A little overwhelmed, at the moment, I suppose, from everything that’s happened.”

“Yeah, no kidding. It’s been a nightmare handling the press about Sokovia.”

Kristie nodded. “We’ve gotten our share here, too. And now Bucky Barnes is in town and causing trouble, apparently.”

Hillary nodded. “It was my understanding he wasn’t the one causing it.”

Coulson called her to go in to Orwin’s office with him.

“We’ll talk more later,” she said, giving Kristie a pat on the shoulder. It was hard for her to not stop and think of her memories of Kristie from before a year ago: going to S.H.I.E.L.D. school together and then hanging out after hours, being office buddies in the Triskelion, trips to the mall, going to church together, and spending time with Kristie’s roommates Sara, Emily and Jamie. 

The world had definitely changed since then. A lot.

During the day, Hillary worked with Coulson and the other Denver agents, mostly trying to find out what the Free Range Party was up to and dealing with the aftermath of the  
attack. But Coulson did devote some time to trying to figure out leads on the Winter Soldier. He asked Hillary a lot of questions about Bucky in the vein of “So do you think that’s something he would do?” or “Has he talked with you about this?” Hillary gave him what information she could. She thought Coulson was partly teasing her.

Coulson and Orwin went to the breakroom to get coffee together. Hillary and Kristie were hanging out in the hallway, talking over the details of the attack.

“So are you some kind of an authority on the Winter Soldier?” Kristie asked her.

Hillary laughed. 

“What?”

“I’m not sure what’s gotten into Coulson,” said Hillary. “And I’m no expert. Nobody is an expert on Bucky, except for maybe Steve, but I think since Bucky left Hydra even he’s had a hard time trying to figure out his friend. And you know, I don’t think even Bucky knows himself all that well, either.”

“That’s reasonable,” said Kristie. “But what makes you say that?”

“Well...I...know...Bucky...personally. Knew him, I guess, until recently, is the better way to put it.”

“Oh. How so?”

“Last Thanksgiving Bucky was in my neighborhood down in Mesa. I invited him in, and he ended up staying for Thanksgiving and Christmas and he lived at my dad’s garage until  
last April.”

“Are you serious? When did Coulson find out?”

“Oh, a couple of months ago. And Steve wasn’t very happy about it, either. I’ll have to tell you the full story sometime.”

“You should,” said Kristie. “But were you two close?”

“Believe it or not, we were. In fact, he figured out how to get on my nerves.” Hillary pulled up the photo album on her phone and showed her one of the pictures of himself that  
Bucky had sent from her mom’s phone. Kristie laughed. 

“Oh my gosh. That is too funny.” 

“I suppose it’s funny now,” said Hillary. “But when he was texting me when I was at work I didn’t see much humor in it. I felt really bad, you know, about letting him stay with us.  
You know how close we were to Steve?”

“Well, we were all good friends, yeah,” said Kristie.

“Well, Bucky...this was the hard part. He doesn’t remember Steve very well at all. And he asked us not to tell anyone he was there. That’s why I got in such huge trouble when  
Steve found out.”

“Right, but Steve’s been out Avenging the entire time, so it’s like it didn’t really matter where he was.”

“Right. Coulson nearly fired me, in fact, but he decided it wasn’t worth making an issue about it.” She slid her finger on her phone screen to show Kristie more of her photos of  
Bucky.

“Wow. You two had fun together.”

“I know. Such a great guy.”

“But did you know about Grace?”

“Yeah. When my brother got back from his mission--”

“Oh, he came back?”

“Yes, he did. But, anyway, my dad basically told him, since Bucky was staying in Cody’s room, that it was time for him to find a different place to live. So he decided to come up  
to Denver to see if he could talk to Grace.”

“So he had met her before?”

“Yes. And last I saw him, he still liked her. A lot. But I guess now with this whole Free Range Party thing he’s gotten to see her but not really talk to her.”

“What happened the last time he was up here?”

“Well, he was at the homeless shelter for about a month, right? So he got to know her during that time. And then they went on a date--I guess she asked him on it. Then he  
kissed her at the end of the night. And he left the next day.” Hillary paused. “He’d said that, he was afraid that Hydra would have hurt her if he got too close to her. But I guess he also had a few more things to work through on his own before he could be comfortable with the idea of a relationship.”

“I get it,” said Kristie. “I don’t blame him. But I get the feeling that Grace might.”

“How did the interview go with her?”

“It went well. It’s just, we could tell the entire time she was very uncomfortable. When she got around to mentioning him she was, well, hesitant. And I heard it from one of her  
coworkers that he may have kissed her when he said goodbye to her again.”

“Oh. Great. Well, that was smart of him.”

“But that may have explained why she was so upset by the whole ordeal. I mean, she seemed fine at the time--looked like she would have cried at one or two points--but anyway,  
she’s doing all right. She’s back at work now. But I guess maybe a little sore that he came back and then left her so quickly.”

“Right. You do realize that she may have liked him back? And she may still have feelings for him?”

“I do,” said Kristie. “So do we help them out?”

“No, I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol permits interfering in matters of love,” said Hillary. “Not even under the new regulations.”

“It’s weird that Coulson would write himself out like that.”

“What, you mean the cellist?”

“Yeah.”

Hillary shrugged. “I dunno. I figured Coulson’s just trying to move on from that.”

There was an awkward silence. 

“But anyway, getting back to Bucky,” said Kristie. “There is something you should know. I’ve been hesitant to write an official report of it, but I thought I should at least tell  
someone. I saw Bucky a couple of weeks before the incident.”

“What?” Hillary said.

“I was out for lunch with one of my coworkers when I glimpsed him in a back alley. I followed him--I just wanted to see how he was. Check on how he was doing. And he popped  
out of a dumpster to say hello to me.”

“He didn’t!” 

“Yeah. He was...really friendly, actually. Kind of sarcastic, kind of bitter. But just doing okay, in general. He did ask me if I wanted to take him home for dinner or something like  
that--”

Hillary laughed.

“And I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but now that you’ve told me that he lived with your family, I guess that’s explainable.”

“Yeah. I don’t think he’ll be doing that again for a while. Staying in one place isn’t always the safest for him. Did you hear about the Scottsdale incident?”

“I did. I heard a rumor that Hydra may have found him there.”

“It was true. But, when you saw Bucky a while back, he looked like he was doing okay?”

“Yes. He did.”

“Okay. That’s what I want to hear. And my folks’ll be glad to hear it too. They keep asking me if I’ve heard anything from him. He had them around his little finger.”

“So you guys adopted him?”

Hillary paused. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Coulson came out of the break room and told them that he wanted to see Hillary back in Orwin’s office. 

“But, anyway, it’s been good talking with you,” said Hillary. “We’ll talk some more later, I hope, while we’re in town.”

“How long are you guys going to be staying here?”

“I don’t know. Coulson said our itinerary was indefinite.” She shrugged and turned to leave.

 

The office was getting ready to close for the day when the phone on Agent Butler’s desk went off. 

“Hello, this is S.H.I.E.L.D.….yes...all right. Perfect. Yes, I’ll tell my boss right away.” Butler put the caller on hold and walked across the room. The door to Agent Orwin’s office was open. Kristie, Hillary, Coulson, and Agent Orwin were huddled inside. “Sir, there’s a call for you. It’s the Aurora Police Chief.”

“All right,” said Agent Orwin, picking up the phone. “Yes, this is Agent Orwin….” His bushy gray eyebrows gave a jump of surprise. “You don’t say? ….And you found him where?....All right then...Yes, we can come down there right away…Thank you. Goodbye.” He hung up and looked over his shoulder at the other people in the room. “They’ve apprehended Frank Butris in Aurora.”

“Finally,” breathed Kristie.

“Perfect timing,” said Hillary.

“Excellent,” said Coulson.

“So the police chief there says we can talk to Butris tonight if we wanted to. I’m going to head down there immediately.”

“We’re coming with you,” said Coulson.

 

This was the first time that Frank Butris had had any contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. face-to-face, but that being said he looked a little worse for wear after being on the run for two weeks. The police had given him a jumpsuit and allowed him to shower, but he had two inches of beard on his face and he had lots of nasty-colored bruises and scars on his face and arms. His left hand kind of moved in a way that seemed off, and when he touched it with his right he flinched a little. 

Coulson and Agent Orwin went over again with him the attack on the law office. He confessed to hot-wiring the emergency stairwell with Luther so they could get through the back without detection. Frank did not make any attempt to deny or cover up his actions, but repeatedly came back to the reasons for justifying them.

“The government is so stupid, trying to take away the land from the people. That’s why there’s so much poverty, because we don’t have enough available for development. We  
could fix so many problems in the world, but the government thinks nature is sacred or something when it really isn’t. Any price to stop them. Anything to keep them from  
holding back the land and the natural resources that are ours--the jobs and the income we could have--it’s not just what we want. It’s our duty.”

Hillary cringed when he said this and every time he rephrased it. 

He described the Winter Soldier as “some greasy hobo.” “I didn’t know who he was,” he said. “Threw one hell of a punch, though. I think he broke my ribs. And then he threw me  
out the window.” 

“So tell me, Mr. Butris,” Hillary asked him, “what happened to you after you fell out the window?”

“Well, Luther was unconscious, so I thought I’d better get away while I still could. My ribs were broken and I was hurting everywhere else, but I could still walk.”

“Is there any particular reason you were able to fall out the window without hurting yourself even more?”

“Oh, I hurt myself a lot more. I got a lot of bruises. All over me. And I scraped my hands. Still hurts like (expletive). But I don’t know why I didn’t break my skull open. I guess I  
was just lucky.”

“What happened then?” asked Coulson.

“I got out of the back alley. I could hear the sirens out on the street. I walked like, two miles across downtown. I made it back to the Party Office in time for closing. My friend  
Pete took me in. He let me sleep at his place. You’re not gonna arrest him, are you?”

“Well, technically he was harboring a fugitive, so we’ll have to bring him in, I’m afraid.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. Well, anyway, I stayed at Pete’s place for the last two weeks. I didn’t go back to work, cuz I figured, you now, you guys would be watching for me. I figured  
the cops were watching the grid, so I thought I’d better not go out and spend any money, either. Pete’s girlfriend, she’s a huge fan of natural remedies so she tried doctoring me  
up--it didn’t work. But I went to see a friend of mine yesterday. The police picked me up this morning for shoplifting.”

“And who is the friend you went and saw?” asked Hillary.

Frank paused for a moment. “Bob, Bob Dowell. We were buddies in college. We’ve kept in touch. He was in town so I thought I’d visit.” 

“Does he know what you’re up to?” asked Kristie.

“Well,” said Frank, “he might not like me telling you this. But since you know about what went down in Arizona”--he gave a meaningful look to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents-- “Bob is a  
representative of Hydra.”

“What?” gasped Hillary.

“Did Hydra order the Free Range Party to attack the lawyer’s office?” asked Agent Orwin.

“No, no, Hydra isn’t interested in that petty (expletive). But they did hear about what happened, in the news. And they knew I was there. So Bob wanted me to give him the inside  
scoop.”

“Where does your friend live, Mr. Butris?” asked Agent Orwin. 

“Thornton. I couldn’t tell you the address. He took me out to lunch at Denny’s.” 

“Do you know or did he tell you what Hydra was up to or who was working with him?”

“No,” Frank shook his head. “He doesn’t tell me that kind of stuff. He’s been working for Hydra for years. He’s pretty secretive about it, actually. So I don’t press him for details,  
cuz he won’t give ‘em.”

“What did he ask you about?” asked Coulson.

“Well…” said Frank, pausing thoughtfully, “he was pretty interested in the guy who threw us out, as a matter of fact.”

“You told them about Bucky?!” Hillary exclaimed.

“You know this guy?”

Hillary shook her head. “Continue.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That he was strong. A lot stronger than anyone I’ve ever fought hand-to-hand with before--which, it’s kind of obvious, considering the whole window thing. But I’d also noticed  
something funny with the guy’s left arm, it was kind of stiff. Bob asked me if I’d seen it and I said no, he kept a glove over the hand. Why you askin’?”

“Did Dowell tell you who he was?” asked Coulson.

“No. It didn’t seem worth knowing to me. I’d sooner forget about that guy. But if Hydra wants to get him, so be it. They can have him. But should I know who he is?”

“I should think it was obvious,” said Coulson. “But thank you for your time, Mr. Butris.”

On the way out of the police station, Coulson addressed his followers.

“I want an arrest warrant out for Bob Dowell. Find out who he is and who his friends are.”

“Right away, sir,” said Orwin.

“Sir, he may be going by a pseudonym,” said Hillary. 

“Nine times out of ten, anyone working for Hydra is using a false identity. But Bob Dowell was never part of S.H.I.E.L.D.. He must have been one of their outside people. A lot of  
them are still out there.”

“But why did Frank reveal that he’d spoken with Hydra?” asked Kristie.

“Well we’d already arrested him, and he’s facing a lot of time in prison,” said Hillary. “I think he felt he had nothing to lose.”

“Right, but Bob’s his friend, though,” said Kristie.

“Some people use the term ‘friend’ very loosely,” said Hillary.


	12. Resurgence

The four of them returned immediately to the Denver S.H.I.E.L.D. office. The others had already left for the day. Agent Orwin, however, started to make phone calls immediately. Hillary and Kristie got on the computers to research Bob Dowell and his connections. Coulson made a call back to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters--though it was late at night, Agent Lyman was on duty and made a note of what Coulson had to report about the case.

They were finally done about eight-thirty at night. Coulson was suggesting that he and Hillary go find a hotel. But then Kristie spoke up.

“Hey, Coulson, I was actually wondering something. Hillary, would you like to stay with me? I don’t have an extra bed but I’ve got a couch. I’ve had other friends sleep over who’ve said it’s comfortable. And there’s a few restaurants around my apartment. I’ve got some extra money if you want to grab something to eat. It’s up to you.”

“Sure. Absolutely!” said Hillary. “Is that all right with you, boss?”

“You’re an adult now, Hillary. And you don’t need to be running around with me all of the time.”

“I suppose I’ll be entertaining you this evening, then?” asked Agent Orwin.

“Of course.”

They went to the parking lot and Hillary got her luggage out of Coulson’s rental car.

Since moving to Denver, Kristie had acquired a car: it wasn’t the nicest car in the world, but it ran. And it was also messy and Kristie apologized for that.

“Trust me, my own car gets dirty like this sometimes,” said Hillary. “Well--you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

She and Hillary started reminiscing about the good old days before the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.. They talked about the various friends and roommates they had had over the years and exchanged news about where everyone was at now, as far as they knew. 

Kristie’s apartment was small and shabby, but liveable. Kristie said she was using most of her income to pay back her student loans from before joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. But someday soon, she hoped, she would have those paid off. And then she would get a nicer apartment. And then a better car.

Just down the street from Kristie’s apartment was a small shopping center with a few nice restaurants tucked between the shops. They went to a Philly Cheesesteak shop and stuffed their faces with gourmet sandwiches and fries. Kristie talked about her life in Denver, the friends she had made and the potential dating prospects. Hillary, in turn, told her about her life since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., working in Arizona and fighting Hydra there and then working for Coulson.

“We’ve pretty much finished cleaning up and reorganizing S.H.I.E.L.D.’s field ops,” said Hillary. “Now we’re back in D.C. doing mostly office work. We’ll travel, you know, whenever big stuff like this comes up. But I’ve officially moved back to Washington for now. And it’s a pity because my family’s gotten used to having me home. Oh--and did I tell you that Mark Lawson moved to Arizona?”

“I saw something on Facebook about that,” said Kristie. 

Hillary told Kristie about Mark’s involvement in the Scottsdale incident. Hillary informed her that Mark had since found a different job--”because, you know, who wants to work for Hydra?”--but that she and Mark had gone on two dates before Hillary had moved back east. Kristie was astonished by this. Hillary told her everything about her time spent with Mark--including when he had met Bucky. 

“Yeah, Mark’s pretty bummed that I had to leave--especially since he just barely left D.C., you know? But we text each other, occasionally. It’s kind of hard with the time difference.”

“Have you texted him since coming here?”

“Yeah. He hasn’t answered yet.”

“Are you guys interested in doing Skype dates?”

“I don’t know. I know he’s interested in dating me, still. I’m not sure when I’ll get to go home next. I was thinking maybe I’d leave it up to him.”

“Well, don’t leave everything up to him,” said Kristie.

“I won’t. I just let him know I think of him, whenever I can.”

“Aw,” said Kristie. “Do you like him?”

Hillary only hesitated for half a second. “Yes. And he likes me back. I know that without him having to run into a burning building to save me.”

Kristie threw her head back and laughed.

“Yeah. That was kind of mean, actually,” said Hillary, and she took a sip of her soda. 

Kristie and Hillary finished their food and went back to Kristie’s apartment. Hillary sent a text to Mark. He texted her back by the time they’d gotten home. They managed a brief   
conversation while Hillary got ready for bed.

Kristie hung out in the living room before Hillary turned down.

She noticed that Hillary looked sad about something. 

“What’s up?” she asked her.

Hillary shook her head. “What if Hydra finds him before we can stop them? They know he’s here.”

“Who, Bucky?”

Hillary nodded.

“I mean, I know he can take care of himself. But it’s Hydra I’m more worried about.”

“How come?”

“Because we don’t know what they have. In Scottsdale, they had enough people and weapons to take him down, if they wanted to. They even brought up the materials to prep him.”

“Oh no.”

“But...I guess we’ll see tomorrow what’s happening. Hopefully we can get a lead.”

Kristie sat down on the couch next to Hillary. She put an arm around her friend. “He’ll be okay. Don’t you worry.” 

 

They reported to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s office early the next morning. At ten, they got the call they’d been waiting for. Someone else working for the Free Range Party had been followed by the police in Arvada to a cellar in a run-down building. There was a meeting going on there of some kind. The S.H.I.E.L.D. team took their weapons and drove to the edge of   
town.

“FREEZE! S.H.I.E.L.D.!” Hillary shouted as she burst open the doors of the building. She was the first to enter. Orwin, Coulson, and Kristie were on her heels. 

There were six people in the room. They all got on their knees with their hands up. None of them took cyanide. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents parted to allow the police to enter and put the Hydra workers in handcuffs, confiscating their weapons as they went.

“Who’s the leader here?” Coulson asked. The Hydra personnel looked at a skinny, balding man with pale eyes. Coulson ordered the police to take away the rest. The man was seated at the table in the cellar to be interrogated in his own workspace. Hillary and Kristie were with him.

“What’s your name?” asked Coulson.

“Bob Dowell,” said the man.

“I notice you didn’t put up much of a fight this time around.”

“We didn’t come here to fight you,” said Dowell. 

“What are you here for, then?” said Hillary.

“The Asset,” said Dowell. 

“And how close have you come to finding him?”

“Too close,” Dowell replied bitterly. “Just a few days ago, we found him lurking in the area around the Standfer and Wilson law office. We gave chase. But there weren’t enough of us. The high command told us to expect him to return to Denver. Our assignment was to recapture the asset at any cost--but the high command didn’t give us any resources for it--no weapons, ammo, nothing. But it’s understandable. Your Avengers have destroyed most of Hydra’s infrastructure.” 

“Who is the high command of Hydra?” asked Coulson. “Was it Strucker?”

Dowell snorted. “No, it wasn’t Strucker. Strucker was the go-between for the high command and the rest of Hydra. But he foolishly sacrificed the rest of Hydra to the Avengers so he could continue his experiments. Now look where that’s gotten him. Look where that’s gotten the world.”

“I should think so,” said Coulson impatiently. “So is this your base of operations in the area?”

“In Denver, no. This is temporary. Hydra does not have any facilities in Colorado. And it does not have any interest in that petty Littson case, if that’s what you’re wondering. No,   
the Free Range Party acted of its own accord. My men and I were sent from Kansas City.”

“And what is Hydra doing there?”

“Trying to survive,” said Dowell.

“And yet you still took an interest in the Littson case,” said Kristie. 

“Yes, particularly when Frank Butris failed to retrieve the files,” said Dowell. “If all had worked out, maybe Hydra would have used some of the resources from the property in question, or found a means to generate revenue from it. But it’s just as well, at this point. And as it turned out, it was worth looking into. We found the Winter Soldier. We almost captured him.”

“What do you mean almost?” asked Hillary.

“I already told you!” said Dowell angrily. “He got away from us. He always has.”

“So is finding him a priority for Hydra or not?” asked Coulson. “Your friends in Arizona gave us the impression it was.”

“Carl Wilmer and Max Phillips were too ambitious for their own good,” said Dowell. “The Winter Soldier cannot be recaptured without means--and those require time, and money. Yes, the high command does wish to see the Asset re-acquired. But, no, I am no longer convinced that he is a priority.”

“Or maybe they were counting on you using your brains to do something creative to get him back,” said Hillary.

“Perhaps they were. But Hydra has tried a number of ways to recapture him. It appears that the weapon we created was far too powerful for even us to control.” 

“What were you guys doing today?” asked Coulson.

“The Asset has disappeared again. Not a surprise, I am sure. But we were making plans to scout out the area to find him when you interrupted us. Even if we cannot recapture him, Hydra would at least like to know where he is.”

“What else is Hydra up to these days?”

“Those of us who have survived the Avengers, we’re lying low,” said Dowell. “But it is only a matter of time.”

“Until what?”

“There is talk...of a resurgence,” said Dowell. “The high command has regrouped after Sokovia. Where they are and who they are, I cannot tell you.”

“A resurgence?” said Hillary, sitting up.

“Recapturing the Asset was only a small part of the plan,” said Dowell. “But Hydra intends to carry on as it did before--and become even greater.” Dowell paused for a moment,   
thinking of what to say. “The plan for this was already in motion, even before Sokovia. Strucker, in his hubris, thought that he could withstand the Avengers, but he was wrong. Wiser minds than his decided he was expendable.”

“So Strucker wasn’t Hydra’s number one?” Coulson replied.

“He wasn’t--although he may have been led to think that. But it’s more than my life is worth to tell you who is really in charge. I have heard that Captain America is creating a   
new Avengers team--with Wanda Maximoff a part of it, no less. You may tell him that Hydra is waiting for him.”

“How big is Hydra’s network now?” asked Coulson.

Dowell smiled. “Even as I speak, Hydra’s ranks are swelling. They are spreading outward to new locations, new places around the world, safe havens from which they will continue   
Hydra’s work. I already mentioned the Kansas City base. You can also try Birmingham, Alabama. They may lead you to others. If S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers are willing to go on another wild goose chase, then so be it.”

“If we can protect the world by so doing, then yes,” said Coulson.

“How about Las Vegas?” said Hillary. “Is Base Lambda still there?”

“Yes. You captured most of our men back in March, but the leaders had the wisdom not to follow. We’ve changed location, though I don’t know where it’s at now. I haven’t been there in a while--I was planning on taking a trip, actually, if things didn’t work out here in Denver, but seeing how you’ve arrested me…” Dowell shrugged.

“Enough of this,” said Coulson, shaking his head. The three of them went outside, and the police came in to take Dowell away.

S.H.I.E.L.D. cleaned out the documents and computers that Hydra had been using in the cellar. The police also caught one of their prisoners trying to hide a flash drive in his   
pocket. There were maps, GPSs, and lists of locations to be watched--they were keeping away from the Arms of Mercy Community Action Center since they knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was   
already watching it. But this group of Hydra associates was sticking strictly to one mission: find the Winter Soldier.

 

Back at the office, Kristie and Hillary talked it over with Coulson in the break room.

“So he might not even be in Denver anymore,” said Kristie. “But he definitely was here.”

“I’d say it would be worth looking for him here, if they wanted to,” said Hillary. “We’ll tell Cap and Wilson to come find him.” 

“Maybe now he’ll let them,” said Kristie.

“I doubt it,” said Hillary.

“They’ll come, but I doubt they’ll have the time to look much,” said Coulson. “Wilson has expressed interest in joining the new Avengers team.”

“He has?” said Kristie.

“Yeah,” Coulson nodded. “I think they’ve figured out that finding Bucky is a lost cause at this point. But they’ll at least give it another shot. This is the best lead they’ve had   
since...well, Arizona.” He looked at Hillary and smiled at her.

“Steve already knows he’s here,” said Hillary. “I sent him a freaking two-page email and started it by saying ‘Hey guess what? Bucky went to Denver.’ Just...Avengers stuff came   
up.”

“Oh, that’s right, he was supposed to call you after that first trip to Sokovia, wasn’t he?” said Coulson. “It’s been what, a month now?”

“I suppose he’s forgotten,” said Hillary. “Not that I blame him.”


	13. The Next Road

The remaining Avengers were still in New York City, but construction would be starting on a new base in upstate New York. The incident in Denver had been an interruption to Coulson’s efforts to helping Captain America secure the property and recruit people to work as a support staff. Hillary had been working for a month helping Coulson and the recruiting department get the word out. A lot of people from S.H.I.E.L.D., including at headquarters, were interested in going there. There were also a lot of applicants who had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. before the fall last year.

But after Denver, Coulson decided to send Hillary straight home to Phoenix. It was her birthday that weekend. He and Mitch would celebrate with her at the office on Tuesday. But for now, she needed to be with her family.

It was early June and blazing hot in Phoenix. But if anything, Hillary had always liked her birthday because it meant a pool party at her Uncle Richard’s house. This year was no exception, and there were plenty of friends and cousins and cake. But for the first time in two years, her brother Cody was there. He got as just a big of a kick of being able to jump into a swimming pool in nothing but swim trunks as all of the younger boy cousins did. Bigger, even, if it were possible. 

Mark was there to join in the fun, but he didn’t get paid that much attention, which was just as well. Hillary caught herself holding hands with him a few times. 

A group of family friends, the Neil family, came to the party as well. They had moved to a house on Hillary’s street a month ago and Trey had invited them to the party. The father, Jordan Neil, took Hillary aside to say that he and his wife were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents assigned to protect her family and had relocated to Mesa with their kids on Coulson’s orders. Her parents knew about this. Hillary was slightly creeped out but grateful. And what was more, the Neil children got along well with Hillary’s cousins and nieces and nephews, so no one was complaining. 

The day after her birthday was Sunday, and the Tanners would have a family dinner with all of Jo and Trey’s posterity present. Grandma Agnes was also invited. Greg and Julia would pick her up.

So while they waited for Grandma to arrive, Hillary played the piano. Between turning the pages of the well-worn family hymnbook, she looked up at the top of the piano. There was a picture there in an undecorated black frame. Hillary didn’t know when the picture had been taken, but it must have come from her mom’s phone. In the photo, Bucky was sitting down, probably on the step of the glass door or the kitchen door. He was wearing a green plaid button-up shirt and clean jeans and his hair was combed. He was looking up at the camera and giving a slight smile. Having that photo on the piano was like having him there, leaning over her as she played.

She did miss him. A little. But she hadn’t gone out to Denver to find him: just to make sure she was safe.

She started to play the hymn “Love at Home” when she heard the kitchen door open. She heard her parents greeting Grandma Agnes and Greg and Julia. Hillary continued to play as Julia and Jo walked Grandma to the living room armchair. Then there was a horrible, strangled noise--not a scream, but an exlcamation.

“JoAnn, take that thing down at once!” shouted Agnes.

“Take what down?”

“I will NOT be having you keep a photo of that...that HOBO on your piano!” shrieked Grandma.”

“Grandma, let’s get you to sit down,” said Julia, trying to lead Grandma Agnes forward. But Grandma wouldn’t budge. She waved her cane at the piano, trying to swipe off the   
picture.

“Mother, let me take that,” said Jo. She attempted to pry Agnes’ fingers off her cane.

Agnes looked around wildly and saw Trey setting the table. “Trey Jonathan Tanner! Take that picture down immediately!” 

“Now, Mom, there’s no excuse for you to get upset,” said Trey, walking over to his mother and gently forcing her to sit in the armchair. He took her cane. “Bucky is gone now.”

“But I don’t think you have any excuse for keeping his picture around, do you?” snarled Agnes. “You will destroy that image at once!”

“Mother, no,” said Jo, standing up tall next to her husband. “I know you may not have approved of him, but Bucky was a part of our family. He didn’t have one of his own to take   
care of him. You can disapprove of anything else our family does, but you don’t get to say what decorations go in our house--especially if they remind us of the people we love.”

“JoAnn, Trey, I am disgusted with both of you!” said Agnes. “You do not per--”

“Grandma, did you take your medication today?” asked Julia.

“I am perfectly well, thank you, Julia. JoAnn, please do not allow your daughter to talk back to me.” 

“Grandma, it’s almost time for dinner, why don’t you relax and listen while Hillary plays the piano.”

Hillary leaned backwards and looked at her grandma. “Got any requests, Grandma?”

“Just continue with what you were playing, dear,” said Grandma Agnes.

A few more minutes passed. Grandma Agnes’ anger subsided. The family gathered at the table for dinner. Afterward there was ice cream. Hillary thought she had had her fill of   
it from the party last night, but she realized that she hadn’t.

“Oh, Hillary, that reminds me,” said Julia, “there’s something that Greg and I wanted to give you. Another birthday present.”

“Oh. Where is it?”

“It’s in the car,” said Greg, getting up eagerly from the table. “I’ll go get it.” 

“How come you didn’t give it to me last night?” asked Hillary.

“Well, it wasn’t quite ready,” said Julia. “The paint wasn’t finished drying.”

“What is it?” asked Hillary.

“Wait to open it and you’ll find out.”

“You’re being coy with me,” said Hillary. “Is this what I think it is?”

Julia smiled mischievously. “That you’ll have to wait and see. So when do you go back to S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Tuesday.”

Greg came back. The present was in a colored paper bag stuffed with tissue. Hillary reached inside and saw a t-shirt, and on it were painted the words…

“‘Aunt...Hillary?’” Hillary gasped. She turned to look at her sister. Julia smiled and nodded eagerly.

Hillary gave a squeal of delight and gave her sister the biggest hug. The children were confused but the adults at the table clapped and cheered--except for Grandma.

Jo got out of her seat to embrace Julia and Greg. She was close to tears.

“How far along are you?” asked Hillary.

“Eight weeks,” said Julia. “So sometime next February--a Valentine’s baby?”

“Yes! YES!” Hillary hugged Julia again.

“NOW JUST A MOMENT!” Grandma shouted. Everyone hushed.

“JoAnn, I am ashamed at your children’s lack of manners and propriety. In my generation, we never discussed pregnancy or childbirth openly in front of men. I am appalled at   
your daughter’s lack of restraint. I CANNOT tolerate Julia’s indecency any more than I can tolerate your open-armed acceptance of a TRASH HOBO--”

“GRANDMA!”

It was Hillary that had yelled back at her. Everyone stared at her.

“Now, Grandma,” Hillary said, breathing deeply, “you’ve got no right to call us out for what you think we’re doing wrong. It’s not the nineteen-fifties anymore. It’s perfectly acceptable for Julia to tell us she’s pregnant. And as for Bucky, he never did you any harm. He never hurt any of us. He’s had a hard life--a life filled with horrors you can scarcely imagine. You talking down about him like that--that isn’t helping anything. And Bucky may be gone now, but he’s a part of our family. He’s as much a part of our family as you, or me, or Dad, or Greg, or Marie, or anybody else, or even that unborn child of Julia’s--and no, don’t flinch like that. But I don’t care if it’s a side effect of your medications or if it’s your dementia or whatever--you do not talk about Bucky like that in front of me. Ever.”

Grandma Agnes made a face. “Shameful. Terrible. How dare you talk back to me.”

Hillary softened. “Grandma, we love you too. We hope you know that.”

“If you loved me, you would do as I say,” said Grandma Agnes.

“Mother,” said Trey. 

Agnes looked up at him.

“Mother, we understand how you feel,” said Trey. “But you don’t need to share your bitter feelings with everyone. Right now, this is a happy occasion. Eight weeks, eight months,   
who cares when Julia announces her baby. Life is life.”

Hillary stepped forward to give her grandmother a hug. Grandma Agnes grudgingly hugged her back. Then she stepped back, trembling.

“Trey, give me back my cane. Greg, please would you take me home?”

“Yes, Grandma,” said Greg, looking sheepish.

Hillary and Trey’s speeches had done nothing to placate Grandma Agnes. Julia reported later that the entire car ride home Agnes had given Julia a stern lecture that she was   
immoral for “flaunting” her pregnancy. And on later visits, Agnes would throw a tantrum every time she entered the house and saw the picture of Bucky on the piano.  
But Hillary didn’t let that bother her. After putting away the dishes, she spent about fifteen minutes holding baby Joseph David, who was going by Joey nowadays. He was big enough now to laugh and coo when she played with him, and sadly Hillary realized she had forgotten most of the baby games of her childhood.

She thought of Clint Barton, who had gone back to his family after Sokovia. Coulson had revealed privately to Hillary that his wife was expecting a baby any day now. And now Julia was going to have a child sometime early next year.

The Avengers had saved the world. Life had continued. And Bucky was still somewhere out there, hopefully a few steps ahead of Hydra. There was hope for him as well.

 

On Tuesday afternoon, Cody took Hillary to Sky Harbor airport. Cody hadn’t been back to the airport since his own homecoming. And Hillary hadn’t ridden in his old clunker since high school--it was the one they had shared before she had gotten her own car. But amazingly it still ran.

“I guess Bucky didn’t do that bad a job on it,” Hillary commented.

“Not at all,” said Cody. “Though Dad said he helped him with it. A lot.”

Hillary laughed. Cody was in the middle of community college classes and he was also working part-time at Greg’s auto parts shop to save up for when he (hopefully) went to BYU next year.

“Wow, Greg’s gonna be a daddy,” said Hillary when they had talked about Cody’s work. “That blows my mind.”

“I know,” said Cody. “It’ll be nice to be around for this one.” He pulled up next to the curb at the airport terminal. “Well, sis, you go keep making the world a better place so   
people can have their babies.”

Hillary laughed. “That’s not all I work for.”

“I know.” Hillary got out of the car. Cody opened the trunk and Hillary opened the back door to get her baggage. Cody hugged her and then got back in the car and drove away. She waved, and then she turned to walk into the airport to head back to work.

Back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. Back to the aftermath of Ultron. Back to the Avengers. 

 

A month later in Denver, Jennifer Kyle was working at her desk at the Standfer and Wilson law firm. She heard the door open, but didn’t bother to look up and see who it was.

Until he stood in front of her.

“Well, well, look who’s back,” she said, smiling smugly. “Thanks, by the way. We owe you one.”

“Not a problem,” he said to her. “Is Grace here today?”

“Grace has moved,” said Jen. 

His face fell.

“Where did she go?”

“Out of state. To Albuquerque. Apparently the whole ordeal of her getting attacked at work--and then seeing you again--all that stressed her out. Luckily Mr. Wilson had a friend at another law firm down there who was hiring.” Jen picked up her phone and scrolled through her Facebook. “Last I heard she was doing all right. Anything else I can do for you?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I guess....I’ll figure it out. Thank you.”

He turned and left. 

“You’re welcome,” said Jen. “Have a nice day.”

**Author's Note:**

> I felt it was necessary to divide the work into chapters not because of length but to separate the different points of view


End file.
